


like it's the only thing i'll ever do

by howdoyousleep



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Artist Steve Rogers, Bathtub Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Boys In Love, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Come Swallowing, Comeplay, Crying, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Falling In Love, Feminization, Fingerfucking, Frottage, Kitchen Sex, Knotting, Love Confessions, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Bucky Barnes, Original Character(s), Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve, Protective Steve Rogers, Recreational Drug Use, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rimming, Rutting, Sexual Tension, Size Difference, Size Kink, Slick squirting, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Squirting, Subspace, Thighs, Top Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:35:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 39,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22042654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howdoyousleep/pseuds/howdoyousleep
Summary: When Steve opens the door, Bucky feels like he’s been living in clouds for the past few days, maybe even his entire life. Steve is life, Steve is happiness, Steve is the sun. He has such a visceral reaction to seeing the Alpha that he feels his knees go weak, feels his body draw tight towards the other man, pulled in.Or big Alpha Steve moves into sweet little Omega Bucky's apartment building and a roller-coaster build of a romance ensues.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 524
Kudos: 1820





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, honestly it was about damn time...  
> I've jumped into the A/B/O Universe and am hella nervous, haha. It came out of NOWHERE, I (Chris Traeger voice) literally just sat down and started writing.  
> I did do some light research to make sure I did this universe justice.  
> This is the most plot I have ever written before lmao  
> 3 chapters total! 1 and 2 are done but 3 will take a little longer just because it's hella smutty, haha.  
> Also, if you're noticing all of my titles are from Harry Styles' songs, mind ya business. <3  
> Un-beta'd. Enjoy!

Bucky can’t even make it to his front door, collapsing on weak limbs on the small landing between the second and third floors of his apartment building with a gutted and defeated noise. The paper grocery bags he had been holding clatter to the floor with him, contents scattering, a can of soup rolling and _thunking_ down a few stairs, noise deafening on Bucky’s sensitive ears. He had more time, _he had more time_ , his cycle always timely and reliable but this was two days, _two days_ , ahead of schedule. His stomach roils, pain icy hot shooting up his spine. He can already feel sweat begin to bead on his brow and he lets out another small noise, pained and high, trying to blindly gather the items he had dropped in a valiant effort.

When he opens his eyes, ones he didn’t even realize were shut, his mind swims, makes him duck his head and fall forward onto all fours. He has to get up, _he has to move_ , it’s so dangerous being out here as an unbonded Omega with their heat settling in at a rapid and unplanned pace. He could get hurt, _could get really hurt_ , this being one of the most dangerous situations someone like him could find himself in. He’s letting out soft pained noises, tells himself to be quiet, that he shouldn’t draw any extra attention to himself, and he decides to leave the groceries behind.

He drags his body up a few more steps, entire form shaking and sweltering, eyes weepy in fear when he feels himself grow slick between his legs, _doesn’t need anything else to draw attention to himself_ , needs to get up just a few more steps so he can stand and walk to his door, needs to get to his door—

He hears heavy footsteps, frantic and hefty, and stifles a sob. He can’t let anyone find him, _can’t be seen_ , but it’s useless, he knows his scent is heavy to anyone within a mile radius, knows it was only a matter of time. He rolls onto his back as best he can on the few stairs he settles on, better to fight off anyone who comes at him, just as another wave of cramps rolls through his core. He wants to cry, wants to whine, _but he can’t_ , slaps a hand over his mouth to stifle his sobs, and—

“ _Bucky?!”_

Bucky opens his eyes and looks up just in time to see Steve Rogers hurtling down the steps above his trembling form and he shouts out a sob in relief, both at the sight of someone trustworthy and at such a big, beautiful, _unbonded_ Alpha. His nose and his head and his _body_ fill with Steve’s comforting Alpha scent, cinnamon and West Coast forests and warmth, and it makes Bucky let out a soft pleased purr.

“Bucky, honey oh god, what… _oh shit_.”

Bucky watches through hazy vision as Steve takes in the sight of Bucky laying so helplessly in such a compromised position, watches his chest heave as he scents the air, _so close_ , and seeing Steve react to his own scent has him purring some more, rolling onto his side in an attempt to push himself off the floor.

“Oh, baby I got ya, don’t worry, _shh_ ,” Steve coos, his voice running across Bucky’s sensitive body like silk, sending goosebumps up his spine and Bucky hears more pitiful noises rush from his mouth. His mind swims, thoughts consumed by Steve, _Alpha_ , even though he knows it’s just his neighbor. His sweet, respectful, ex-military turned artist, built _as fuck_ neighbor who he’s been flirting with and pining after for months now. His sweet Alpha neighbor who is unbonded and who is picking up Bucky into his arms, cradling him to his broad chest like he weighs nothing more than a feather.

“ _Steve_ ,” is all Bucky can breathe into the skin of his neck, winding his limbs around Steve’s body, unable to stop himself, reel himself in, from full-on scenting the other man, of running his nose along the sensitive skin of his neck, breathing in deeply right under his ear. Steve feels so good, smells so good, makes Bucky want to rub his body all over his bigger one, his Alpha one, make him feel so good, _so good._ His clothes feel itchy, too confining, he knows his pants have to feel wet to the touch under Steve’s hands and that makes him _keen_ , makes him mewl into Steve’s cheek.

“Oh, Buck god, sweetheart you’re a mess, what are you doin’ outside during your heat, sugar? Huh?” Steve presses as he walks swiftly towards Bucky’s door and _god_ his voice is so deep and perfect and it makes his toes curl in his boots. He’s never reacted in such a way to anyone before, heat or not, but he knew this would happen, has purposely avoided Steve a few days before and after his heat, especially during.

“Isn’t…wasn’t supposed to…to s-start today. S’early, _god, Steve_ ,” he breathily explains with a lilt of a whine. He feels Steve dig into his jacket pocket for his keys and _he wants more_ , wants Steve to keep talking to him, wants him to hold him close, wants him to help the ache in his body, _deep in his body._ He clings to Steve when he feels him pull away a little to open the door, whimpering, and he can’t help it, his baser instincts take over, and he mouths at Steve’s scent gland, runs his tongue over it in a hot open-mouthed kiss.

“Ohh, _fuck_ , Bucky nono…”

“ _Ngh,_ Steve please please, _Alpha_ ,” Bucky whines, running a hand up and through the hair on the back of Steve’s head, so soft and silky, just as the other man closes his apartment door. His body is on _fire_ , he feels like his insides are screaming at him, like his brain is moving through molasses, and he wants Steve, wants him more than anyone or anything else, wants this big Alpha male to help him in the only way a man his size and designation could. Steve rumbles, makes Bucky whimper, and makes his way through his apartment to Bucky’s bedroom, his Omega brain singing at the choice.

“No, sugar no, it’s not what you want, Buck,” Steve whispers hoarsely and tears immediately spring to Bucky’s eyes. _Not what he wants?_ It’s everything he wants! He’s been thinking about Steve fucking him through his heat for months now, of him being the one inside of him, pleasing him, taking care of him, instead of those fucking toys. Bucky would bet his life that Steve feels immensely better than a toy, than _anything_ , and he feels a rush of liquid seep from his sensitive hole, Steve choking back a gasp in response.

“ _See?_ Want you, n-need you…need you to make it stop hurting, Steve, please please, help me, _Alpha_ ,” Bucky cries, rolling what he can of his hips into Steve’s torso, moaning when it proves to be difficult because of Steve’s _large hands_ and _strong grip_.

“ _Mmm_ , can’t, baby can’t, you’re in heat, _fuck_ ,” Steve whispers as he steps into Bucky’s bedroom, heading towards the bed, “I can feel how wet you are, sugar smell how sweet you are, like peaches and cream, _Jesus_.” Bucky _keens_ , makes soft noises at how pleased Steve sounds talking about his scent, mouths at his jawline, purrs when he feels the other man lower him down into his bed, into his own nest, and _damn_ what a feeling, a perfect one in the state he is in.

“I can’t stay here with you, Bucky, I can’t, can’t stay,” Steve says as he tries to pull away from him, sounding like it’s more for himself instead of for Bucky, but his words spear through Bucky, white hot pain of rejection in such a fragile state burning through him. He chokes on a wave of sobs, his tears mingling with his sweat, and he _clings_ to Steve, can’t let Steve go, _won’t_ let Steve go.

“Nonono, baby don’t cry, don’t cry,” Steve soothes, voice deep as he kisses at Bucky’s temple, “Don’t _want_ to leave but I _have_ to, can’t consent to anything when you’re in this state, sugar, you can’t.” Steve’s words make sense and they’re so noble but Bucky hates them, growls at them, _hates them_ , they barely make sense to him in his muddled brain, it just hurts like rejection, like Steve doesn’t want him.

“Y-you don’t want me? _Alpha_ doesn’t want me?” Bucky all but wails and Steve settles on top of him with a low noise, presses his body into his mattress, into his nest, bringing his hands up to cradle Bucky’s face, and _it’s bliss,_ makes Bucky pant out, “ _Oh god.”_ Ocean eyes meet his and within a few seconds he realizes that he is matching his own deep breaths to Steve’s, that he is doing this on purpose to calm Bucky down, thumbs rubbing along his cheekbones. _Such a caring mate._

“ _Bucky,_ baby of course I want you, _Alpha_ wants his _Omega_ ,” he croons, nudging his nose and Bucky’s in such a domestic way it makes his heart damn near burst out of his chest, makes him let out a low noise as he feels his body settle into the mattress more, _so soft._

“I want you, Bucky _god_ do I want you. But I wanna do this right, wanna court you, wanna get to know you more,” Steve explains in a low soothing voice that has Bucky lowering his eyelids, heavy and drooping. He’s so torn, _so torn,_ has been waiting so long to hear these exacts words come from Steve, wants to squeal, is sure he’s blushing, but _no._ His body says _no_ , absolutely not, Steve needs to stay here, needs to soothe his aching center, needs to take care of Bucky and feed him and bathe him and be his _Alpha_ and knot him.

Steve placing a soft chaste kiss directly over his scent gland makes his entire body shutter, and _goddamn,_ it feels so good, _so right_ , makes him whine and bare the rest of his throat, tilting his head up and back. Steve rumbles again, a noise Bucky always wants to hear, wants to hear for the rest of his life, and his nose runs up and down his neck gently and, as if possible, Bucky melts even further into his nest.

“You’re gonna be alright, sugar. _You’re gonna be okay here on your own_ ,” Steve starts, using a stern Alpha voice when Bucky grows frantic, whines and tries baring his throat again. Steve’s hands on his face drag Bucky back to stare up at the other man, to swim some more in those ocean eyes, and he says, “You’re gonna be alright, Buck you know why?” He manages to shake his head, his body roiling and trembling. “Because this whole time you’ll know that _this’ll be the last time you need to experience your heat alone_ , sweetheart.”

_Oh._

Oh _god._

He lets out an embarrassing noise, a high wail of sorts, choking on it and gasping as desire and heat and need roll over his body in waves, Steve’s words alone being the cause. His head spins and his backside leaks and Steve’s kissing his cheek, purring into it.

“Yeah, honey I’m gonna take such good care of you, my sweet _Omega_ , you’re gonna be okay,” Steve croons as he begins to pull away, detach himself from Bucky’s limbs and grip, and _no, no_ that isn’t good, _Alpha_ is leaving him.

“ _Bucky_ …baby, look at me.” Bucky does, quite frantically. “You’re gonna be okay. Say it, say ‘I’m going to be okay, Alpha’.” Bucky swallows a few times before repeating in a gruff quiet voice, “I’m gonna be okay, Alpha.” Steve leans down and presses his nose into Bucky’s neck under his ear, scenting him, rubbing his lips along the sensitive skin, making Bucky pant loudly and spread his legs in submission.

“Again,” Steve orders.

Bucky whimpers. “I’m gonna be okay, Alpha,” and the other man sucks a gentle mark onto his scent gland, licks at it in a small but messy open-mouthed kiss, making Bucky roll his hips, _his body_ , into the much larger one above him. His mind may be preoccupied and his body sensitive, but he wants to come, is so close to coming, needs some sort of release and immediately. Steve pulls back, kisses Bucky’s cheek once more, and is kneeling up and off the bed, _he’s leaving_ , but he’s going to be okay, this is his last heat alone, but _he’s leaving._

He didn’t realize he was whining pitifully, more tears springing to his eyes, and he can’t help but roll his hips, his behind, into the bed now that he has free range. He hears Steve groan heartily from the edge of the bed, the noise spurring him on, making him want to shake grabby hands back at Steve, crawl towards him and present to him if he could. He thinks he’s imagining it, thinks his hazy vision is playing tricks on his eyes, when he watches Steve yank his own t-shirt over his head and rub it along his neck and chest.

_Oh._

“ _Steve_ ,” he whines at the sight of him half-naked, his broad fucking chest so delicious and so powerful and Bucky wants to rub up against it and nibble on those pecs, climb on top of him. Steve gives him a warm noise in response, bends down some and places his soft shirt on Bucky’s chest, cups his jaw. “Here you go, sugar. Gonna grab your groceries and bring them back in. We’ll talk when this passes, okay?” He presses a kiss to the corner of Bucky’s lips that leaves him gasping, grappling for Steve’s item of clothing, _so warm and so comforting_ , unable to verbally respond.

He barely hears Steve leave his apartment or come back in to leave his groceries on the countertop, too preoccupied with rubbing Steve’s shirt across his neck and over each piece of skin he frantically uncovers. He’s spent almost every heat entirely alone, has a routine, knows what to do, how to get out content on the other side of it, but nothing, _nothing_ , has ever made him feel this way. He feels like he is going to vibrate out of his skin, like he has such little control of his mind and body, which should be terrifying but is isn’t, it has him leaning into his heat, into the side effects.

He isn’t even embarrassed by what he wants and what he needs, desperation a much larger force than his dignity, and he finds himself rolling his hips into his mattress, humping his bed as he rubs Steve’s shirt against his neck and face. It’s _everything_ and _nothing_ , makes him yearn for the real thing, to be humiliatingly humping at Steve’s big body instead of his sheets but it’s so comforting and makes him keen and whine.

He comes twice this way without even needing to touch his leaking erection or his achy hole. He humps his bed and rolls his trembling hips and bites down on Steve’s shirt as he thinks about the many different ways he could present and submit to the Alpha. He cries out Steve’s name, feels more slick build between his thighs, his hole _so sensitive_ , and nearly passes out when he thinks of the Alpha spreading him open and fucking into his messy cunt and _knotting him_ and biting down onto the nape of his neck and fucking _owning him_.

Steve was right—Bucky would be okay. While this heat was one that started early and unplanned and on a hectic note it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. His alarms let him know when to shower and eat during those first few days, building his nest up, keeping Steve’s shirt close. His toys were there when he needed them, but they were entirely disappointing knowing that he could have the real thing, his and Steve’s interaction never leaving his mind once.

He thinks about Steve when he touches himself, when he pushes toys deep inside himself, riding them, whimpering when he can’t get the angles just right, knowing that Steve would take care of him, _wants_ Steve to take care of him. He ponders the sweet and filthy words that Steve would whisper in his ears, on the skin of his neck, words that would make his hole tighten and clench around Steve’s big cock, _so full_. He thinks about Steve bathing him, large hands moving gently but with purpose. He thinks about being fed with those same large fingers. He thinks about Steve _biting_ him, marking him and bonding with him, blushing furiously at such an intimate desire.

On the third day of his heat his doorbell rings. He’s immediately on alert and cautious, should be in the state he is in, makes his way to his door as quietly as he can. On the other side of it he sees an unassuming blonde woman holding a rather large box, smiling as if she knows Bucky’s predicament on the other side of the door. He sniffs the air, scenting it softly, but doesn’t smell anything, doesn’t smell a designation, so he cracks it open.

“Um…yes?”

“Hi, James?”

Bucky pulls the door open just a tad more, still cautious.

“Y-yeah, that’s me?” he says with a lilt of a question at the end even though he’s quite certain he is indeed James.

“Hi, I have a delivery for you! From a Steve Rogers?” The blonde is giving off positive and sunny vibes that soothe Bucky minutely and he opens the door at the mention of his potential Alpha. From Steve?

“ _Oh_. Umm, okay here,” he murmurs, blushing at the surprise show of affection, and the blonde woman passes the large box off to him. He asks if he needs to sign anything, but she shakes her head and departs with a kind, “Best of luck.” The box is indeed heavy, but it smells _incredible_ , so sweet, and he places it as gently as he can manage on his kitchen counter. He gasps when he opens it, eyes wide, toes curling into the hardwood floor.

Inside the box is the most stunning and delicious array of chocolate-covered fruits, some dried some not, he has ever seen. Strawberries, blueberries, oranges, cherries, pomegranate seeds —they are some of Bucky’s personal favorites. _How did Steve know?_ He whimpers out loud, the butterflies in his chest and stomach bubbling out in delicate noise and picks up the small note laying inside the box.

_Buck,  
Some sugar for my sugar.  
Remember—last heat alone.  
Yours truly,  
Steve_

Bucky squeals softly, a long pitiful noise, folds his body over the countertop as he feels his cheeks heat up again, feels himself grow aroused. Such a thoughtful gesture, such a _caring_ gesture, one that has the Omega in him purring, has himself, _James_ , purring. He wants Steve, wants him so badly, wants to nuzzle at his neck and bare his own and wrap himself all up in his Alpha’s embrace. He decides that the chocolate-covered cherries are his favorite after he makes a mess in his pants right there leaning against the kitchen counter.

([Here's my Tumblr link](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/howdoyousleep3))


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You met him yet, Buck? He’s a real looker, real broad, biggest man I’ve ever seen. I know he’d take real good care of you, honey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, wow thank you! I love you! Here is Chapter 2 and it gives us the background information and some nice slow build. Chapter 3 will pick up where Chapter 1 left off.  
> I will give a headsup that Bucky is kind of creeped on for a little in this chapter. Nothing happens, they make no physical contact, but it is kinda scary nonetheless.  
> There is also recreational drug use.  
> Also, I KNOW NOTHING about the military and had to do light research so please do not come for me.  
> Un-beta'd! Enjoy!

Bucky first met Steve six months prior. He could smell Steve’s presence and scent, knew his designation, before he even set eyes on him. Others noticed too. More people frequented his stairwell and landing, declining the elevator, trying to look as casual as possible as they attempted to find the correct door, scenting the air. Frail but fiery Ms. Julie who lives below him came up to deliver banana bread to him as she did every month and her eyes had wandered, mind elsewhere, when Bucky tried to hold a conversation with her.

“You met him yet, Buck? He’s a real looker, real broad, biggest man I’ve ever seen. I know he’d take real good care of you, honey.” He had blushed profusely, stammered, and politely shuffled her out into the hallway. He didn’t need any more of a reason to be drawn to his mysterious new Alpha living in his building. His scent alone had Bucky reeling, his insides squirming, the rational part of his brain working overtime to maintain his composure.

This went on for a few weeks, walking into his building and trying his hardest to not find himself wandering to this mysterious Alpha’s door. His scent was… _to die for_. Bucky had never smelt anything like it before, so comforting and warm and deep, like a bonfire on a beach running up against the crisp Pacific Ocean. Sometimes he would pick up on a sweeter scent, like Snickerdoodle cookies, vanilla and cinnamon, a different kind of warmth. No matter what, it always had Bucky weak in the knees, fuzzy in his head, body drawn, insides pulled.

Bucky had been rushing out of his apartment, trying to make it to his yoga class in a valiant attempt, when he quite literally ran into the mysterious Alpha for the first time. He had turned and ran down the stairs without turning his head in the same direction, slammed right into warm skin and miles of muscle, that smoky vanilla bonfire scent overwhelming him, making him gasp.

“Oh shit, I’m so—”

“Nono, it’s my fault entirely, please—I—”

_Oh._

_Oh shit._

He was already embarrassingly flustered, the Omega in him wanting to heel and to take the blame, but when his eyes rake up the form in front of him he almost whimpers out loud, knows he does inside. He’s looking up at the most stunning man he’s ever seen, the strongest, broadest ( _Ms. Julie was most definitely correct_ ), most handsome man he’s ever set eyes on. He can’t even finish his apology, his sentence, and when his eyes lock onto ocean ones, he’s breathless. His eyes match his scent, it all makes sense, blue and green swimming together in the most exhilarating of ways.

The mysterious Alpha has sun-kissed hair, golden blonde, midwestern-spun wheat, a little shaggy but swept back effortlessly. High cheekbones, well-groomed facial hair, plush lips. Bucky’s head comes up to this guys collarbone, had him looking through his lashes up, had him naturally physically submitting to him instantly.

There’s a few more beats of silence, the two men frozen in each other’s presence, sizing each other up, when they mysterious Alpha clears his throat.

“I should’ve been watching where I was going. I-I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” _Oh_ , his voice, goddamnit his voice flows over Bucky’s form and ears and mind and spine like warm honey, so deep and delicious, appealing to Bucky’s voice kink immediately and entirely.

Bucky nods his head frantically, reassuring in an over the top effort. “I am, yeah I’m…I’m okay.” Bucky feels breathless, locks his knees in hopes that he doesn’t drop to them for a plethora of different reasons. He hopes he isn’t popping a massive mortifying boner in his thin leggings but is also glad he chose the pair that he did, them making his ass look incredible.

There’s another few beats, Bucky adjusting the strap of his mat around his shoulder, blushing profusely at the roaming gaze of the other man, when he says, “I’m Steve, Steve Rogers. I moved in about a month ago,” and extends his hand. Bucky takes it, revels in the ruggedness of it, the strength of it, before he murmurs, “I’m James b-but most people call me Bucky, Bucky Barnes,” and before he can stop himself he’s adding on, “You’re quite the talk around here.” Steve squeezes his fingers once more before chuckling and dropping Bucky’s hand. Steve licks his lips.

“S’that so?” Bucky nods his head meekly.

“Yeah, heh, never seen our floor so busy. You’re all Ms. Julie talks about.” That makes Steve chuckle heartily, eyes crinkling adorably in the corners. Bucky’s gut clenches.

“Ms. Julie has been quite accommodating. It’s nice to put a face to the ‘Buck’ she’s been…talking about.”

“ _Oh God…_ ” Bucky feels his flush spread down his neck, looks to the floor, makes a defeated noise. Goddamn Ms. Julie and her big mouth and love of gossip. Bucky’s almost entirely certain she has mentioned to Steve how single and unbonded he is and what apartment he lives in.

“I-I don’t know what she has said b-but I haven’t…I’m not—”

“Bucky, don’t worry. She cares about you and your well-being very much.” Steve’s hand comes up to brush across his shoulder in a well-intentioned comforting gesture, but it makes Bucky’s spine tingle, makes his body light up, makes him grow a little more breathless. He can’t stay here anymore, too worried he’s going to do or say something he’s going to massively regret.

“Well, uh…I’m late for yoga so I b-better get going.”

“Oh! Yes, of course, right.”

Another few seconds spread between them, enough time for Bucky to realize how close they are standing to each other. Were they always standing his close? _Oh god,_ has he moved closer to Steve without even realizing it? He looks up at the other man once more, sees his deep inhale, his eyelashes flutter ( _god,_ those eyelashes) and Bucky can’t, Jesus Christ, he needs to—

“It was nice meeting you Bucky,” Steve purrs, giving him a definitive once over, before taking a few steps back. Bucky bites his lip, head clearing a bit at the new space between them and turns his body. Bucky isn’t a fool, knows he is an attractive little Omega, knows how to work what he’s got, knows what people like to see, knows Steve is _definitely_ looking at his ass.

“It was nice meeting you too Steve. See you around…” he murmurs in response, tossing as flirty of a glance as he can muster over his shoulder, a piece of his chestnut hair falling out from behind his ear. He swears he can see Steve’s eyes darken from where he’s standing and somehow he manages to not collapse on wobbly limbs, walks with a sway in his hips down the stairs and out the front door.

Bucky sees Steve almost every day after that. It’s so unbelievable, so coincidental, that Bucky begins to believe that Steve might be planning it out. But his mind always _always_ wanders into that dreaded thought cycle of how unlikely it is that someone like Steve Rogers would want to chat up or flirt with or be with someone like Bucky Barnes. The details of their interaction in the hallway must have been muddled in his brain. Either way, they don’t talk each time they see each other, sly glances and flushed cheeks, but Bucky sees him and that’s enough to make his crush grow.

Ms. Julie is so tickled that the two have interacted, albeit a brief interaction, that she squeezed Bucky’s cheek when he mentions it as he picks up her trash on the way to dump his own.

“Ain’t he dreamy, sweetheart? He’s asked me about you, ya know…” she mentioned, Bucky’s heart fluttering up to his throat at her words. Steve? Steve Rogers has asked Ms. Julie about him? About Bucky? He pushed down his excitement, his Omega instincts, his emotions.

Bucky gets Steve’s mail in his own box one afternoon which makes sense, Steve being 5A while he’s 4A, and Bucky has to tell himself that he doesn’t need to go check his reflection in the mirror, doesn’t need to go primp to go deliver an envelope to the Alpha. He tells himself far too many times that what he is wearing, his good black jeans and maroon shirt and denim jacket, is completely acceptable. Hs feet are moving with purpose before he can psych himself out anymore, up the stairs and up an extra floor, and he soon finds himself in front of Steve’s door. He takes a deep breath and knocks, light but loud enough.

No one answers.

He tries to not be disappointed, tries not to whimper like a sad pup, and instead chooses to knock once more before dropping to his knees to see if he can slide the piece of mail under his door. He has virtually no time or warning when the exact door he’s touching quickly opens and—

 _Oh_.

Oh _no_ , it’s Steve but it’s…oh _fuck_ , it’s Steve with a towel wrapped around his thick waist, it’s Steve fresh out of the shower, it’s Steve with darkening eyes as he looks down at Bucky on his knees at his feet.

“Bucky?” Steve questions, voice a mixture of confused, amused, and aroused. Bucky barely hears him, is open-mouthed staring at the Alpha from below, his mind racing with every dirty thought that could come to his brain, a flood of filth at the absolute worst time. The worst part, the absolute worst part, is that Steve starts to smell of arousal, of a horny Alpha, and it’s so faint, but it’s there and it has Bucky panting, hoping his own scent isn’t reaching Steve like his is to Bucky.

All he can squeak out is a startled, “ _Steve_!” in response, but his joints are stuck like stone, unable to move, unable to lift himself from his surprisingly submissive position. The Omega in him wants to lower his gaze, wait for an order or command. He can’t do that, shouldn’t do those things with someone who isn’t is own Alpha, his own mate, but he’s drawing a blank.

“What…what’re you doin’? Steve asks, a concentrated wrinkle forming between his brows, his sharp eyes taking in everything, flicking between Bucky’s face and his positions and what he’s holding.

“I uh—I have your m-mail it…it was i-in my mailbox and…I was trying to—I thought I’d s-slip it under—” Steve’s mouth breaks out into a soft smile, interrupting Bucky with a hand and a gentle, “Get up off the floor, sugar.” Bucky does make a noise, a soft one, one he blames on the strain of rising from his position using Steve’s hand in his grip, knowing damn well it’s from hearing Steve call him ‘ _sugar’._ Bucky is blushing, his chest is tight and he murmurs a soft, “T-thank you.”

He tries so hard, _so hard_ , to not stare directly at Steve’s hulking chest in front of him, the inches and seemingly infinite inches of golden skin glistening, that tempting unmarked juncture between Steve’s neck and shoulder, below his ear, _screaming_ at him. He wants to show Steve his own, tip his head to the left, pull his hair around to the other shoulder. He’s so preoccupied with his submissive fantasy, standing there wiggling half-chubbed up, that he barely hears Steve clear his throat.

“Bucky? Can…can I have my mail?”

_Oh._

“Oh! Ha, y-yeah duh, here,” Bucky stutters, his unsteady hand coming up to place the envelope into Steve’s wide palm, _so capable_ , so big, and he takes half a step back to distance himself, to not reach for the towel around the other man’s waist, to not make any more of a damn fool out of himself. Steve is smiling at him, knowing twinkle in his eye, and he isn’t moving, he’s just standing there in his doorway almost naked watching Bucky blush and stammer and try not to stare.

“S-sorry to bother y-you, Steve,” he mumbles, chancing another look up at the other man, rubbing his arm before turning back around towards the stairs. He gets two steps away when he feels a comforting hand wrap around his bicep.

“Buck, don’t be ridiculous,” Steve murmurs, the hand on Bucky’s shoulder drops, skims his arm, “You could never bother me.” Bucky’s chest tightens, his gut clenches, can swear he feels the Alpha’s breath on his top of his head. Bucky’s fingers twitch at his side as he fights, _fights,_ the urge to reach up and grab at Steve’s own bicep, to yank him closer, to feel his heated skin against his own. He doesn’t know what to say in response, wishes he could ask for a bite or a kiss, ashamed that he isn’t confident enough to lean into such an obvious proposition, and he smiles weakly before making his way back towards the stairs.

When he gets back into his apartment, he doesn’t even make it to his bedroom before he’s got his hand down his pants, making an embarrassing mess of himself all while thinking of Steve in that fucking towel and what lied beneath it.

Turns out, although Bucky actively tries to avoid Steve because he had felt like such a fool during the mail debacle, Steve’s reassurance comes in handy about two weeks later. Bucky’s heat is set to start the next day and there are things that he needs to get done before in order to not have any added stress during the week. He needs to get one more solid hot yoga class in, go to the grocery store, stop by and check on Natasha’s cat; if it could be an errand, he has to run it and he only has a day to cram them all in.

The grocery store ends up being his last stop, an end to his long and honestly exhausting day. He can feel the stirrings of his impending heat, the subtle cramps and the rise in his body temperature. He is aware that others around him can tell, knows he needs to get inside and needs to do it quickly to avoid unwanted attention. He is picking up a few sports drinks when he notices him, notices a man’s, an Alpha’s presence, looking unconvincingly preoccupied with a bottle of soda. When Bucky goes to pick up a few pears the man follows him, looks at grapefruits. When he goes to pick through the tubs of ice cream the man seems to filter through bags of frozen vegetables.

Bucky is annoyed, _fuckin’ Alpha audacity_ , but is more focused on getting home, back to his apartment and to safety and comfort, but he begins to grow genuinely worried when he walks out of the store and the man is behind him. Bucky’s heartrate spikes significantly. He has had negative attention before, he’s been cornered and been pressed against, had to spit and fight against unwanted advances, but he’s never been followed. He thinks of his options, of where he can go to psych this guy out, but a wave of heat rolls through his body, his heat symptoms leveling up, settling in more. He tears-up in frustration, pulls his sweatshirt closer to his chest, fumbles with the two grocery bags he is carrying.

The man is still a good hundred feet behind him, his own instincts making his pursuit sloppy, so obviously following Bucky it’s laughable. Without another option in his head, his flustered heat-riddled brain, he finds himself walking through the front door of his apartment. He can’t hear anything but the pounding of his pulse when he watches the man slip in through the door as well.

_Fuck._

Bucky should rear back, should start shouting and interrogating the man, but he’s an Alpha, an aroused one, and Bucky is twelve hours from starting his heat, weaker than he tends to be. He feels his hands quake, his legs wobble, and he’s on the third floor when he hears the man behind him make a low noise, just half a floor behind him. He’s so stupid, _he walked right into his own apartment building_ , he wasn’t thinking, and now he’s going to get hurt, something bad is going to happen to him. He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he almost misses his own floor but then—

 _That’s it_ , his only hope.

He walks up an additional floor, floor five, and right up to Steve’s door. He knocks, loud and frantic, gulps down his hysterical tears, the gravity of the situation settling over him, can hear the man on the stairs approach. But then Steve’s opening his front door and Bucky has never seen anything better in his entire goddamn life, looks up at Steve’s kind but then concerned face and whispers, “ _Please_ ,” motioning behind him with a small tilt of the head. Steve is observant, is intelligent, picks up on Bucky’s predicament quickly, and he’s soon swept up in a warm protective embrace, tight and safe. His frightened tears become relieved ones almost immediately.

“Hey, baby I’ve been waitin’ for you. What’s wrong, huh?” Steve says, loud enough that Bucky hears the other man’s steps falter behind him. He feels Steve’s lips on his temple, feels his hand settle on the back of his head, pulling him into his neck and _oh,_ that’s so nice, _so comforting_ , feels himself relax into Steve’s arms, against his chest. He feels protected, lets the full-bodied aroma of the Alpha’s scent fill his nostrils, soothe his mind and his body. Steve radiates protection, safety, defensiveness, _anger._ Bucky whines into the other man’s neck, runs his nose along his scent gland, wishes he didn’t have groceries in his hands so he could curl into Steve more.

“Hey, pal you got a problem?” Steve’s asks, voice deep and assertive, unavoidable, and the strength of his embrace doesn’t falter, if anything it strengthens, pulls Bucky in a little tighter. Bucky hadn’t realized he was shaking so hard, practically vibrating in Steve’s arms, mind racing with continuous strands of gratitude in the Alpha’s presence in this building and his growing one in Bucky’s life.

“N-no, no problem here, guy. Just thought—” the man tries to explain, stopping mid-sentence possibly at his realization at how his thoughts will sound out loud, and Steve does give him a chance to finish it, but then he’s growling softly and it sounds so _nice_ , _so Alpha._

“Thought what?! Huh?”

“He just…he didn’t smell like he belonged to anybody!” Bucky can hear the man take a few steps back, his voice getting higher as he begins to reason with Steve. The other man may have been an Alpha, but he has absolutely nothing on the physicality and presence of Steve Rogers and it sounds as if he is beginning to connect those dots himself.

“So what? You fuckin’ follow him home like you can’t keep your dick in your pants? S’that your plan? Forcin’ him?”

“No, I—I didn’t—”

“Get the fuck outta here. If I see your sorry excuse of an Alpha self comin’ around here again, preyin’ on unbonded Omegas, I’ll fuck you up. You got that?” Bucky whines again, slightly worried that Steve may be overreacting but is far too gone into his Omega brain to try and speak up. He hears shuffled steps, huffs of angry breaths, mumbled curses, and Steve is kissing his temple again, soft chaste kisses that make Bucky sigh dreamily, almost relaxed now that the other man is gone.

“Buck, you wanna come in for a little? Calm down?” Steve whispers into his hair, arm tight around his shoulders, other hand still cradling his head. Bucky does, _he really does_ , but he shouldn’t with his heat coming on, already weak with emotions running high from this experience. He takes a few more deep breaths, wishing he could keep this scent with him for the next week, hoping it sticks to his clothes and his skin, and shakes his head with another soft noise.

“I-I shouldn’t. I uh…I’m…my heat is…it’s—”

“You’re in pre-heat,” Steve confirms for him, hand on the back of his head sliding down to cup the back of his neck, squeezing softly. If Bucky were more with it, he would most definitely be questioning the Alpha’s actions, his possessive movements, his kisses, his own shifting scent, but in this moment, it is perfection.

“Mhmm. Start tomorrow. Shouldn’t have been out so late, not when I’m s-so close to my heat,” he mumbles. Steve makes a low noise, akin to a growl, and pulls back, tilting Bucky’s chin up with authority. “What happened tonight is not your fault, Bucky. Anything but your fault. You do understand that, don’t you?” Bucky sighs, wants to look away from Steve’s gaze but wants to swim in those eyes some more, such a reassuring gaze, so intense. He may not be able to accept Steve’s words in this moment, but they are ones he didn’t think he needed to hear, ones that make the ache in his chest dissipate a little more.

He nods his head as best he can, whispers, “Thank you, Steve,” and tries his hardest not to look down at the plump lips he can _feel,_ so close he can almost taste the Alpha’s sweet breath on his own mouth. Steve gives him one more squeeze before dropping his embrace, taking a half-step back and grasping his front door’s handle.

“I’ll walk you down,” he says, closing his door and shuffling with Bucky to the stairs. It feels nice to have Steve so close, even merely walking down a flight of stairs to his own door, and Bucky wonders if his heat will be affected by the Alpha’s presence, so close and so intense, wonders if Steve will be affected, most Alpha’s going into rut when they’re set off by an Omega’s heat. When they get to Bucky’s door, he shuffles for his keys and takes a deep breath again.

“Steve, I can’t thank you enough. I…I was really scared, and I don’t kn-know what I would have done without you,” Bucky explains softly, turning to look up at Steve, to make his apology seem as genuine as possible. Steve’s demeaner has slightly altered, a fidgety edge filtering in, but his face remains calm and stoic, his smile sweet and soothing.

“Of course, Bucky. I’m here if you need me for…anything.” Bucky unlocks his door as Steve takes a few steps back and he smiles up at the Alpha, bashful and embarrassed again. “Goodluck with your heat, sugar,” Steve murmurs as he takes a few stairs, ascending to his own apartment. There’s an aroused lilt to his voice, a suggestive tone that has Bucky’s dick perking up, his head going a little fuzzy.

“Y-yeah, thanks,” he manages to bite out before he closes the door behind him, locking it and moving to the kitchen. He sighs heavily, drops the bags onto the counter, arms strained and achy from holding them for such a long period of time, and he finds himself sliding down onto the kitchen floor, back against the kitchen island. Exhausted and simmering with arousal he tells himself he’s in for it this week, knowing this heat will be different with it starting with Steve’s scent on his clothes and his protective embrace strong in his memory.

On Day 2 of his heat Bucky smells it, _an Alpha in rut_. It’s subtle, nothing overwhelming, but to Bucky it is _Earth-shattering_. Because it’s Steve, it’s Steve in rut, in rut because of _him,_ that smoky clean cinnamon scent magnified by a thousand, and _god_ is it crippling, heady and all-consuming. It makes Bucky drag himself to his living room where the scent is the strongest, roll himself onto his couch, hump the air as he bites down onto his palm to fight the urge to whine out Steve’s name, _Alpha_ , hoping he could hear his pleas.

Smelling Steve in rut makes him leak slick profusely, sticky between his legs, drenching his sensitive balls, his achy hole. It makes him whimper and flip to his front, present with his ass in the air, clenching down on nothing and wishing it was _everything_ , wishing it was Steve’s knot pressing and forcing its way into Bucky’s cunt. He knows Steve would treat him well, more than well, knows he would protect and cherish and love Bucky so well, can smell it in the air.

He knows he would naturally know what Bucky would want, what he would need, that he would want Steve to bite down hard on the back of his neck as he shoots off in the sheets, would want Steve to whisper filthy praise, call him a _good boy, a sweet thing_ , as he fucked Bucky into the mattress. He knows Steve would appeal to his darker wants as well, the desire to be held down, tied up, humiliated a little bit. He knows Steve would be that perfect combination of loving and domineering that Bucky has always wanted. And _fuck_ does he want it.

That heat was the worst one yet, feeling like the longest one to date, consumed by the smell of Steve’s scent on his skin, their sexual tension prickling up his spine, the smell of _Steve_ in _rut_ unbearable. No matter what he tried, what he used, what he humped, nothing could satisfy him, nothing could ease that awful ache inside. Worst of all, it left Bucky wanting Steve much more than he did five days prior. It left him wanting Steve as a mate, as an _Alpha_ , as a boyfriend, as a lover. That desire left a different kind of ache, one in his heart, tight in his chest.

This interaction and desire didn’t fade as quickly as the previous ones. It lingered, made his scent a sad and uneasy one, left him in a fog for a little. He had never reacted this way towards anyone, had never felt a natural _need_ for someone like this before. Had never let anyone in so easily before and it was making Bucky reluctant to ever let someone in like this in the future. He was so weak.

Bucky thinks it’s best to try and avoid Steve after that. It would help his heats, it would help his sour mood and sour scent, it would help his day to day life. He was grateful for what Steve had done for him, but his anxiety-riddled brain told him it was best if he didn’t drag the other man into his life with him.

It’s about two weeks later when he sees Steve again. He’s honestly surprised he hasn’t run into him before that point, and while a ~~large~~ little piece of him is sad and misses the Alpha, it’s fine. It’s all fine. Bucky is strong and resilient and he’ll get through a little crush. He’s standing in his kitchen, cooking up some zucchini for a stir-fry of sorts, some cop show lulling him into the evening hours, when he smells it.

_Pot._

It’s been a while since Bucky had engaged in recreational drug use, the last time being a few months prior with Natasha at her apartment. They had watched Planet Earth and had eaten a shit ton of frozen pizzas and chips and cosmic brownies, locked themselves down on the couch, most definitely needing a stress-free night with the week they had had. Bucky was no narc, but he was most definitely curious as to who was the culprit behind the smell so naturally, he found himself following it.

His window is open and his nose leads him just there, looking through the glass, down towards the alley. When Bucky doesn’t see anything he pulls the window open some more, sticking his head out and looking around, looks up and—

_Damnit._

Steve is sitting out on his own fire escape ledge, the floor above him, joint in hand, and when he hears Bucky’s presence he turns and glances down. It would have been different if he had not been seen, but when those ocean eyes catch Bucky’s own, sneaking away isn’t an option anymore. They look at each other for a few seconds before Steve says softly, “Hey, Buck,” and brings the joint up to his mouth, inhales, holds it, breathes out, looks away.

Bucky tries, _really tries,_ to not dwell on the fact that watching Steve smoke was one of the hottest things he’s ever seen.

“Hey, Steve,” he responds, instantly unsure of how he should proceed. He technically isn’t on the fire escape and is instead leaning out his window. Should he step out? Should he leave Steve be? His scent is telling him that something is amiss, something isn’t well. Does he want time alone, unbothered?

“You…you wanna join me?” He hears Steve ask and Bucky’s eyes flick up to the other man at his tone, a little hopeful, a little hurt. He hears himself in his head shouting, “ _You just decided that it was best you keep your distance_!” but then his legs and arms are pushing and pulling his body through his window and up a few stairs, the Omega in him wanting to help, to soothe, the ache in Steve’s voice. Bucky is a little awkward, always has been, decides to do what feels right and ends up sitting cross-legged perpendicular from the other man, leans back against the railing some.

Steve doesn’t even say anything, just smiles softly before leaning forward and handing Bucky the joint, Bucky mumbling a thanks.

“Didn’t take you for a pot smoker,” Bucky teases quietly as he exhales, closing his eyes briefly as he does so, opening them back up to find Steve watching him, arms folded on his perched knees. He smiles, huffs out a barely-there laugh, takes the joint back from Bucky.

“Eh, only truly started smoking when I came home.”

“Came home?”

“From Afghanistan.”

 _Oh,_ Bucky can’t stop his eyebrows from rising, from spewing out, “No shit?” and then immediately wishing he hadn’t. He has absolutely no idea what Steve has been through and for him to just come out and curse and question him, implying he wanted him to talk about his private life and his past was entirely insensitive. Luckily, Steve smiled, a little thing tugging at the corners of his lips, but Bucky was already fumbling with his apology, “Shit, Steve I shouldn’t just…I’m sorry I—”

“No, Buck, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m fine with it,” Steve explains, offering the joint up to him once more, Bucky taking it with shakier hands. He inhales, holds his breath, shuts his eyes. He hasn’t done this in a while, kinda missed it, hands it back to Steve before he places it somewhere just inside the window. Bucky knows he won’t feel anything for at least ten minutes with his metabolism and tolerance and he finds himself softly inquiring, “So…” Steve’s eyes twinkle some.

“You want short and sweet or long and brutal?” Steve asks and Bucky feels like he’s being given a fragile gift, responds with, “Long and brutal,” hoping he doesn’t sound like an unempathetic asshole. Steve hums and rests his head on his forearm, curled up and looking so unlike his Alpha self and a different kind of Steve-smell wafts his way. It makes Bucky’s toes curl into the grate beneath him.

“When I was growin’ up I was…well I looked a lot different. Tiny, always sick, bony all over, felt like I was _always_ sniffling, Mama always chasin’ me around with a kerchief,” Bucky feels his eyes grow fond, his chest expand like it’s breathing anew at simply learning about Steve. He leans his head back against the railing, pulls his knees to his chest.

“I was sick and gangly but I always found myself involved in a fight, always worthy and honorable, I swear, but a fight nonetheless. Even when I was a tiny thing I felt that I was still capable of standing up for others and myself. It was silly and Mama always told me that but I didn’t really stop. Bullies are bullies and people don’t deserve to be treated like shit, no matter their designation.” Steve’s eyelids drooped a little more as he blinked and his scent began to change, a little lighter, not as sappy. Bucky want to roll over and show Steve his tummy because of it.

“I never knew my father but he was in the Army and I admired him for it so a few factors led to me wanting to join the military fresh out of high school. I didn’t grow until I was older, sprouting up and getting wide, but I knew I wanted my life to mean something, knew that I wanted to help as many people as I could, no matter what I presented as. I was ready to wear all the patches and take all the heat suppressants, swore I was gonna be an Omega. But I wasn’t, obviously. Presented during my last year of high school, _real_ late. It was all fine. But…but then Mama died right before graduation and she was all I had left and there wasn’t really another option.”

Bucky’s heart _shatters_ , there’s no other word to describe it. He almost hears the metaphorical pieces slip through the cracks of the grate beneath him and onto the cracked asphalt floors below him. He can hear the ache in Steve’s voice, see the pain on his face, _sense_ and _smell_ his overall sadness. He loved his Mama, arguably more than anyone, and Bucky felt his eyes grow a little moist.

“Steve, I—I’m so sorry, S-Steve,” Bucky croaks, wanting to tear himself from his sitting position and curl into Steve’s lap, let him nuzzle at his neck. He feels time slow down around him a little bit, feels his brain get a little foggy. He sees the Alpha smile at him.

“Aww, sugar don’t be sorry. It was her time.” Steve, even while a little high, seems to be leaning in Bucky’s direction, drawn to him, and Bucky wants to meet him halfway, close the gap. He can’t tear his eyes away from Steve’s face, flicking to his eyes when Steve’s lock to his. All Bucky can do is give him a sad smile.

“So, I enlisted,” Steve started, stretching his long legs out in front of him, wiggling his toes, Bucky trying his damndest to not take note of his bare feet. “I wanted everything they could give me, having very little left of my own. And I was just growing into my body, learning what it could do, wanting to prove myself. Went through eight weeks of hell at barely eighteen, worked myself too hard. Went to school off and on the entire time I was in the Army, was quite the sharpshooter. They deprived us of sleep and food, made me think I was going crazy. But I did it. And I kept going.”

Bucky was almost entirely baked at this point, hearing and vision smooth around the edges, Steve’s voice like a lullaby to his soul.

“I ended up working my way into the 75th Ranger Regiment,” Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up, pretty sure he had heard of this group on the news, “And it was a dream. Felt like I was facing the world’s bullies head-on, felt like I was making a difference,” Bucky could hear it coming, already feeling defeated.

“Until I wasn’t. Well I guess until I saw what was really happening and realized we were hurting more than we claimed to be helping. It took me a long while though. I compromised my character, myself, was focused more on following orders than following my heart, thinking that if I worked through the ranks myself I could find myself in a position to do good and to change things. Was stupid really,”

Bucky felt himself shaking his head, back and forth, back and forth, swaying with it a little, outwardly responding to Steve’s self-criticism. Steve was _anything_ but stupid.

Steve laughed a little, looked up at Bucky, mumbled, “That’s kind’a you, sweetheart,” Bucky’s eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

“How long did you serve?” Bucky asked and Steve grimaced before answering, “A little over a decade, a decade and a half.” It was much more than what Bucky was expecting. He can’t imagine what Steve had been witness to. It must have been written on his face, transparent as fuck, because it had the Alpha turning his head and sighing, “Yeah.”

“So…why pot?” Bucky knows the answer before Steve even sighs again and starts up.

“I saw things, Bucky, awful things. I killed people, followed orders blindly, was shot at, was stabbed, was treated like a machine. Learned the hard way that our country doesn’t actually give a shit about its soldiers. Just a body, it’s what I was.” Bucky can _feel_ the emotions pouring off of Steve, his own fury mixing and melding into the air between the two of them. “Came back pretty messed up, wasn’t used to civilian life. Pot helps,” he ends with a shrug of his broad slumped shoulders.

“And now?” He doesn’t even recognize his own voice, high off the drugs and high off this conversation and—

“I uh…I’m an artist.”

The once-shattered pieces of Bucky’s heart rise from the cement and piece together with grace back in his chest.

“You…you’re an _artist_?” Bucky whispers, knowing the smile on his face is too giddy for something so mundane, just a simple conversation, but Steve blushes and _oh gosh_ that’s pretty. He nods his head, bringing it up from resting on his forearms, smile growing as he looks at Bucky.

“Yes, I…I like charcoals and oils on canvas? There are probably twenty-seven sketch books lying around my apartment. It was something I was good at when I was younger that my therapist suggested I pick up after I came home, to maybe help with the PTSD.” Bucky could help with the PTSD. Bucky wants to help with everything, wants to clean Steve’s paintbrushes and gather all his random pencils from around his apartment, wants to wipe a smudge of color away from his temple.

“That’s…that’s _incredible_ ,” Bucky breathes, “Steve that is amazing, I’m blown away,” he compliments, realizing it’s maybe the third sentence he’s said to Steve since they met without stuttering. He rides it. “You’ll have to show me sometime, what you draw,” and Steve is looking at Bucky like he’s precious, like he maybe hangs the moon at night, and whispers, “I’d like that, Buck,” and Bucky feels many things. He is grateful for having ran into Steve in the hallway those few weeks ago. He is flabbergasted as to the person that he was learning Steve was.

He might be in love with Steve.

_He might be in love with Steve._

It may be the drugs, it may be his hormones, could be Steve’s comforting scent swirling around his head—could be a lot of things. Could be a lot of things but Bucky is starting to feel different in his bones, could try lying to himself and denying himself of something so potentially great it could shift his entire world.

Bucky was going to give in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 next! Please let me know what you think! Leave me all the comments! I am on Tumblr, "howdoyousleep3"!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dating Steve Rogers was…incredible. Bucky felt like he was living in a dream, like reality was a fantasy, like every day and hour and minute had a newfound purpose. He knows Steve had mentioned he wanted to properly court Bucky, to get to know him, and while Bucky had originally rolled his eyes at the idea, he was completely and utterly smitten with the Alpha himself and the attention he showered Bucky with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW okay so a few things. You may have already noticed or read on Tumblr but this work is now going to consist of four chapters! I needed more background/buildup and it needed to be split up. THANK YOU for your love and kind words!! I have never had a reaction to a fic like this and I'm floored and v nervous lol. This is...SO. MUCH. SMUT...  
> Shoutout to my lovely @chiffoun, @cantabile-l, and @outcastspice. Without their guidance and hype-up this would be impossible.  
> OKAY. This picks up where Chapter 1 left off!! Un-beta'd! Enjoy!

Bucky’s heat passes easily, Steve’s shirt rumpled and well-used, embarrassingly reeking of Omega heat and pheromones. Bucky isn’t sure if he should wash it or if Steve would want it to smell like him, smell like his arousal and his appreciation. Even after he decides to wash it, it smells heavily of his own scent, detergent doing little to tamper down the smell. Bucky is both pleased and mortified.

The first day Bucky is able to leave his apartment and go see Steve he wastes hours tossing around the idea and what he should say in his mind. He cuts a path in his carpet with his pacing, wonders if Steve can hear him from below or if the people he resides above can tell. He tries to reassure himself that it’s okay to approach Steve, that it’s okay to want him in such a way. Steve outright said he wanted Bucky! They had scented each other and Steve left him his shirt and respected his boundaries but sent Bucky sweets and Bucky felt a little in love. The other part of his brain, one that has been with him his whole life, spun an opposite kind of tale, told him someone like Steve couldn’t want someone like Bucky, instilled that lack of confidence some more.

He has to go talk to Steve. That’s what it ultimately came down to—nature. It was the normal and natural thing, the Omega thing, to do. He takes the folded-up shirt, cradles it as he walks out of his apartment, a part of him wishing he could keep it, _wants to keep it forever_.

There’s music coming from Steve’s apartment when he approaches the door, something light, something cheery. Bucky thinks Steve would look good moving from side to side to it, humming to it, pulling Bucky in tight, attempting to dance with him, making him blush. His own personal fantasy makes Bucky blush in real life and he quickly raps his fingers against the apartment door. When Steve opens the door, Bucky feels like he’s been living in clouds for the past few days, maybe even his entire life. Steve is life, Steve is happiness, Steve is the sun. He has such a visceral reaction to seeing the Alpha that he feels his knees go weak, feels his body draw tight towards the other man, pulled in.

Steve looks at him as if he is having the same thoughts, as if seeing Bucky in this moment is the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and the most stunning of smiles breaking across his face. He thinks for a second that his body is being yanked towards Steve’s by forces outside of his control but within seconds he realizes that it’s Steve; Steve is placing his hands on his shoulders, sliding them up to cup his neck. It’s presumptuous, daring, _delicious_. Bucky loves it.

“ _Buck_ …” Steve says, and he says it like a prayer, like he can’t believe the younger man is at his door, looking up at him. Bucky feels his body almost quake, vibrate with reaction at feeling and hearing and seeing and _smelling_ Steve, and he wishes he wasn’t holding this shirt to his chest so he could wrap his arms around Steve’s waist in response. That clean smoky smell wraps around him like a warm blanket and it’s _immense,_ it is _everything._ “Hey,” is all Bucky breathes back in response and he swears for a second that Steve is going to kiss him and _he’s okay with that_ , doesn’t think twice about parting his lips and breathing the other man in, Steve pulling him as close as he can without actually touching his lips.

They stand there, Steve’s hands warm and grounding around his neck, bodies so close to each other head to toe that Bucky can _feel_ the Alpha’s heat, just watching each other, eyes dark and roving. It’s intense, _it’s beyond intense,_ and it makes Bucky want to tilt his head, bare his neck, be sweet. He swallows down a whine, watches Steve’s eyes sharpen and feels his fingers twitch at his neck at the noise, feels the fingers of one hand curl around his ear.

“I…I brought your shirt back,” Bucky informs in a small voice, unsure of what else to say, and Steve _purrs_ , drags one hand down his back to rest on his waist, the small of his back, and it’s _possessive,_ almost has their pelvises rubbing together, makes Bucky let out a small gasp.

“D’you put it to good use, sugar?” Steve asks and Bucky breaks out into a blush immediately, breaks their eye contact, unable to look at Steve as his mind races back to him _defiling_ this shirt, _humping_ this shirt. All he can do is nod his head and clear his throat, chancing a glance back up at Steve to find him smirking back down at him as if he knows everything that Bucky had done with it.

“Good. Thank you for bringin’ it back to me. Why don’t you come in?” Steve murmurs, making no move to grab for his shirt but does make a move to turn and drag Bucky into his apartment with little force. Bucky’s never been inside Steve’s apartment before, always finding himself on the outskirts of it somehow, but he realizes right away that this is a _home._ It isn’t sterile. It isn’t a façade. It tells Bucky a lot about Steve, makes him realize how little he knows about the older man.

The colors scattered throughout are warm, pieces of furniture and art mismatched but somehow coming together in the best of ways, the most pleasing of ways. It is tidy but lived-in, bookshelves full, candles used. Bucky loves it immediately, brain going right to how well their living spaces could meld together, how well their _nests_ could come together. It makes Bucky’s stomach tingle.

Steve is handsy, _thank fuck_ , and doesn’t stop touching him as he leads Bucky to his couch, settling onto it with a decent amount of space between the two of them, _far too much space_. Bucky sets the shirt down onto the coffee table, turning his body to face Steve as Steve has done to him, wide and welcoming. Steve doesn’t have socks on and even _that_ has Bucky yearning.

“How are you feeling?” Steve asks softly, a gaze that can only be described as “loving” settling on Bucky and he finds himself flushing at the attention and at the question. Talking about his heat is intimate, something that is only often done with mates or with people who are bonded. It isn’t an outright direct question, but it has hope and giddiness bubbling up in Bucky’s chest.

“M’good. Better now. Better because of…because of you.” Steve’s eyes darken, his scent strengthening, his nostrils flaring.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’ve saved me twice now and your shirt h-helped me. A lot. And t-the fruits and chocolate were _so good_.” Bucky’s fingers go to fidget with the cuff of his hoodie sleeve, nervous and feeling somewhat of a burden as he says these things out loud for the first time. Steve has done so much for him.

“I’m glad I could help, honey. D’you know how that makes me feel?” Steve asks and Bucky shakes his head, looking down. Immediately Steve moves and there are reassuring fingers under his chin, tilting his head up to find an equally, if not more, reassuring look sprawled across Steve’s face. _God,_ he’s gorgeous, so broad but soft, so rugged but gentle.

“It makes me feel _good_ , makes me feel like a good Alpha. Makes me feel like a proud Alpha, that I could help my sweet little Omega work through his heat, even when I couldn’t be there.”

Bucky’s _hot_ , hot all over at hearing those words outside of his mushy heat brain. Steve is for real, he is so confident, his words and his face telling Bucky so. Bucky wants to be Steve’s Omega, wants to be sweet and little for him, wants to be the one to make him proud and make him happy. He feels a stirring in his core and with that comes a burst of confidence, maybe desperation.

“W-wanted you there.”

It isn’t anything they didn’t know before this moment, _hell_ Bucky had been dry humping Steve and begging for his knot not even a week ago, but _damn_ is it heavy. It hangs in the air between them, neither of them looking away from the other, their scents mingling together, empowered by the presence of each other. Steve’s jaw ticks, Bucky’s fingers curl around air, and he _swears_ he could cut the tension between the two of them with a knife.

He’d let Steve kiss him, push him back against the couch, fuck him. He’d let Steve do anything, he’s sure of it.

Steve doesn’t do any of that right away though, doesn’t grab Bucky behind the neck and pull him forward, doesn’t grab him around the waist and pull him into his lap. What he does do is exhale harshly, slide the fingers under Bucky’s chin down the front of his throat, and _that_ makes him actually whimper this time, the most possessive of actions, makes his eyelids flutter. He’s half-hard in his jeans already but when Steve leans forward to kiss the corner of Bucky’s mouth, wide palm strong across his neck, he gets so hard so fast he goes a little light-headed.

“Nothin’ more I wanted than to be with you, Bucky. Hardest thing I had to do, walk away from you for the _second time_ , smellin’ the way you did, knowin’ I could help you, knowin’ you were desperate for my knot…” Steve’s voice is so low, so hot on his cheek, in his ear, and he can’t help it this time, brings his hands up to grip at the front of Steve’s shirt, desperate to hold onto anything as the other man’s words bounce around in his brain. He hadn’t thought about how difficult this has probably been for the Alpha, how hard it was to walk away, and his self-control is an incredible turn-on, has Bucky damn near panting.

“ _Steve…_ ” Bucky whines, high and feminine, making him flush down his neck, the same neck under the older man’ loose grip. Steve coos in response, a sweet noise, kisses him on the cheek, and pulls back, gives them space to breathe but Bucky doesn’t want that. He feels like he quite possibly might be going into heat again, knows that isn’t possible whatsoever, but _shit_ it feels like it. His hands are still buried in Steve’s shirt, grip unrelenting, and he mortifyingly feels himself begin to grow sticky between his cheeks. He hopes it will go unnoticed, a hopeless wish, and where Steve’s self-control had been present a few seconds ago, it dissipates at one long inhale on his part.

Bucky finds himself straddling Steve’s tree-trunk thighs in the blink of an eye, another thick arm wrapped tight around his middle, pinning Bucky to Steve, the other hand gentle as it cups the hinge of his jaw. It’s dizzying, most definitely has Bucky panting now, so much contact at once, overwhelming in every way. If Steve didn’t have him held up in every way he swears he’d be on the floor. Steve is leaning against the back of the couch, seemingly fighting keeping his eyelids open as he breathes in the smell of Bucky, the air around them. And then—

“ _Oh…”_

Steve’s cock presses against the denim of his jeans, presses up against Bucky’s sensitive bottom, and if he thought being pulled into Steve’s lap in such a quick fashion was overwhelming, it had nothing on this. It had nothing on feeling Steve’s fat erection push up against his ass, his Alpha arousal so close to his Omega own, makes him groan and grind his hips down into the other man’s. He’s the one moving, the one half-humping into the other man but he’s stunned when their erections press together in such a delicious rough movement, gasping at the shock of it, Steve letting out a purr of a noise in response.

He’d let Steve fuck him, tear his clothes off right here, even moreso than a few minutes prior, his mind swirling with an overwhelming array of smells, sights, and feels. He can’t help it, digs his fingers into Steve’s chest, _oh god_ , moans when he feels the packed thick muscles there, spreads his thighs a little more, grinds into Steve’s lap with a little more enthusiasm, a high noise.

“ _Oh fuck_ , Bucky…baby,” Steve groans, huffs out hot breath onto Bucky’s mouth and _oh_ it’s so sweet, Bucky wants to drink it in, gasping in the realization that he’s never kissed Steve properly, only teases and corners. Eyes he didn’t realize were shut fly open, locked onto dark Alpha ones, moaning again when he feels the strength in Steve’s grip on his waist, on his jaw. He feels like he’s baring his soul, his heart, in this gaze, that he’s letting the other man know that he’s pretty sure he’s falling in love with him, has been since literally that first run-in in the hallway, _for sure_ since the night on the fire escape.

It’s emotional, shockingly so, makes Bucky take in a few shaky gasps, makes him grip at Steve’s neck and shoulder at the sudden fear of him pulling away, of losing him. His own vulnerability _shocks_ him, he’s never let someone in so quickly, but Steve already means so much to him.

“ _Hey,_ hey, honey it’s okay. Buck?” Steve’s warm voice pulls him out of his head, out of his heavy thoughts, a thumb brushing across his cheekbone. He can’t help but whimper, immediately embarrassed at being caught up in his feelings in such a heated moment, totally displaced, worry filling his head, his scent. Steve whines a little in response to the change in Bucky’s demeanor, his scent, his own noise, presses his wrist under Bucky’s nose and _—_

“ _Oh, Alpha…_ ”

“Yeah, sugar you’re okay c’mere,” Steve murmurs when Bucky pulls on his wrist, breathes in deep, _so comforting_ , _so good_ , giving up Steve’s wrist when the other man pulls him in tight to his neck. It’s like his anxiety and his negative thoughts just… _disappear_. In its place comes warmth and sunshine and _love_ , makes Bucky hum some more, press his nose into Steve’s scent gland more, purr into the feeling of large capable hands rubbing at his back. Scenting is such an intimate gesture, something to not be taken lightly, and it adds to the headiness of Steve’s scent, knowing that this is the root of Steve’s being, knowing that he is the one who gets the privilege of scenting Steve and becoming familiar with his unique smell.

Bucky is overwhelmed again but no anxiety follows it this time around, wiggles close, nuzzles into Steve’s neck, wants to nip and bite and lick. He whimpers.

“Steve, can I—”

“Yeah, Buck go on, sweetheart,” is all Steve whispers, a comforting grip to the back of Bucky’s neck, and he’s leaning in, running his lips across Steve’s scent gland. He is aware he has done this before, is mortified at his forwardness last time, his heat making his Omega brain muddled and choices questionable, but it’s almost like he had forgotten what it was like.

He gets one tease of the tongue in and—

“ _Steve,”_ Bucky whimpers, the Alpha letting out a low rumble of his own noise, sending a thrill down Bucky’s neck. It’s like lightning and warmth shoot up his spine, up the column of his neck, down to his crotch, his core. It’s like coming home, rainy days, hot soup, beaches—all the things that Bucky adores. He turns a little aggressive, his whimper turning into a throaty moan, lips latching onto Steve’s skin with vigor, sucking at the hot salty skin there. Steve groans, adds his own noises to Bucky’s as he grips his hips, lets him writhe a little bit in his lap. It’s perfection, makes Bucky dizzy, makes him fuzzy and cozy and loving, kissing at Steve’s neck, tugging on his ear playfully as he comes down from his rush of emotions.

“You feel better, sugar?” Steve murmurs into Bucky’s hair, hands tight around his back, rubbing in the most soothing of ways. Bucky hates feeling weak, hates the stereotypes that coincide with his designation, but he definitely doesn’t hate the way Steve makes him feel precious and safe and loved in this moment. _What a good Alpha_.

“Much better,” he responds with a dreamy sigh into Steve’s neck, his head coming to rest on a broad shoulder. “I uh…I got a little overwhelmed there for a second,” Bucky whispers, Steve’s arms tightening minutely in response. “Was it…should I not have…?” Steve starts and the hesitancy is palpable, makes Bucky press into Steve, chest to chest, makes him reach forward and kiss at his neck in reassurance. “No, no it was…umm the opposite I guess. I got caught up thinking about, _shit_ , umm…thinking about how much you… _meantome_?” Bucky ends his thoughts flustered, rushed, and quiet, shocked at his thoughts and emotions, even more shocked at him voicing said thoughts and emotions out loud.

It’s like Steve’s scent _grows_ , intensifies, but maybe that’s the way the Alpha pulls him in, settles back into the couch more, presses the sides of their faces together. There’s silence that follows but it isn’t heavy—it’s companionable. It’s tender, makes Bucky’s eyelids flutter closed. “You’re the sweetest little thing, aren’t ya, Buck? How’d I get so lucky, huh?” Steve whispers, pursing his lips at Bucky’s ear, and Bucky _purrs_ , thinks to himself that he foresees himself making all kinds of sweet noises with Steve in his life.

Bucky has no response to that, never quite knowing how to respond to compliments, so he chooses to tuck his chin and run his lips over Steve’s scent glad some more, squeezing in tight and making a soft noise. That companionable silence settles again like a warm blanket over the two of them curled up together on this couch. Bucky takes a few seconds to relish in and replay what has transpired so quickly over the past ten minutes. The buildup to this point has taken months, has been a rollercoaster, but Bucky never thought he’d find himself here in anywhere other than his fantasies.

“Go to dinner with me,” Steve breaks the silence, pulling his head back, running his hands down Bucky’s back to his hips, and _shit_ just feeling the Alpha’s hands there, of Steve touching his body possessively, has Bucky weak and boneless all over. He can’t help but get breathless as well, looking down at Steve, sitting atop thick thighs, body going soft under roaming and purposeful hands. It’s heady, it’s everything he’s been pining after for weeks, makes his eyes rove across Steve’s ruggedly handsome face. _God,_ he’s beautiful. Bucky can’t help but bring his hands up, cup Steve’s face, let his fingertips scratch at the short hairs that comprise that lush beard.

“Kiss me properly first?” Bucky doesn’t even recognize his own voice, distracted by Steve looking at Bucky just as reverently as the gaze given to him.

“Shouldn’t that come after the date? Walkin’ you to your door?”

“Uh-uh, can’t wait, been waiting weeks, Steve. Kiss me, please,” Steve eyes are twinkling mischievously, like he’s going to make Bucky wait, so he rolls his hips a little, whines out a tiny, “ _Alpha_ …” and that right there seals the deal. There’s nothing physically kind about the kiss, it’s demanding and hot and heavy, but it’s sweet and consuming and intimate. Bucky’s never had a kiss like this before, one that has him breathless within half a second, one that makes him feel so submissive even though their position feigns his own dominance. When Bucky feels the Alpha’s tongue slip across his top and bottom lip, _literally licking into his mouth,_ Bucky moans helplessly.

“ _Fuck_ , I got my hands full with you, don’t I, sugar?” Steve says whisper-low between kisses. All Bucky can do is giggle a little breathlessly through Steve’s gropes and kisses.

“You got no idea, Rogers…”

***

Dating Steve Rogers was… _incredible._ Bucky felt like he was living in a dream, like reality was a fantasy, like every day and hour and minute had a newfound purpose. He knows Steve had mentioned he wanted to properly court Bucky, to get to know him, and while Bucky had originally rolled his eyes at the idea, he was completely and utterly smitten with the Alpha himself and the attention he showered Bucky with.

Steve dated the shit out of Bucky. He took him to dinner, _cooked_ him dinner, showed up for spur of the moment surprise day dates. One night he took Bucky to the roof of their apartment building and there were lights strung tastefully about and maybe Steve had a plan, but what ended up happening was them sipping their way through two bottles of wine and Bucky rambling away about the stars and space. There were quite a few times that night where Bucky would stammer to a stop, blush, and try to change the subject but Steve would kiss him on the cheek, kiss the back of his hand, encourage him to keep going. It was one of the first times Bucky remembers not being made fun of for his hidden passion. Bucky showed Steve his appreciation in a handsy makeout session, partially to blame on his over-brimming infatuation, partially to blame on the wine.

Steve would take him to movies, shows, and museums, which was Bucky’s personal favorite outing. They shared with each other their favorite restaurants and bars, went on walks at dusk, held hands in public, groped at each other on public transport. There were times where they never left their apartment building, instead opting to curl up on the couch and watch something on Netflix or read. These were Bucky’s favorite times, the ones that made his entire being sing, where he felt the connection between him and Steve grow. They were the times where their scents intermingled, where he felt domesticated in the best way possible, where he felt so in love he felt he might combust.

While those were the times where Bucky felt their bond grow, like he was finally discovering this other buried half of himself, they also bonded _physically_. Bucky knew this before they had started dating each other but he had never been more attracted to anyone else in his entire life than he was to Steve. Steve was rugged, he was dashing, he was soft. Steve was the envy of any Alpha and the focus of the wet dreams of any Omega. He was confident and competent and _so fucking big_. Steve could pick Bucky up, could toss him over a shoulder, could throw him around. Bucky was a little obsessed with Steve.

Steve was insistent that they take things at whatever pace they wanted, insisted on ensuring Bucky was comfortable at all times, the Alpha seeping out of Steve him making Bucky preen. The thing was though, Bucky didn’t want to wait around or waste time; he wanted everything Steve could give him and more. Steve’s only stipulation?

That they wait to have intercourse until Bucky’s heat.

Steve had explained his reasoning to Bucky after he deadass pouted where Steve had him pressed up against the back of his apartment door. Bucky could _feel_ his Alpha’s cock pressed up against the crease of his hip, _so big_ , and all Bucky wanted was for it to be fucking him through the floor, wanted his rim to be stretched and tested by that knot that he just _knew_ would wreck him. He had been panting, his hands were tugging at blonde hair, a thigh pulled up around a slim waist by a wide palm, when Steve had told him, said, “ _Wanna wait for sex, sweetheart, wanna wait to fuck that sweet little cunt, wanna wait to make love to you.”_

Bucky’s Omega brain immediately panicked, his cunt clenching around nothing in mourning, had whimpered, “ _No, no, nonono, Steve don’t make me wait, don’t—”_ Steve had cut him off with a squeeze of his ass and a hard suck and nip at his neck. “ _Baby, think about it, think about how different and heightened everything—oh god—everything is when you’re in heat. You think it’s hard for me to keep my fuckin’ hands off you now, I’m gonna be an animal when I get’a whiff of that sweet as sin smell’a your heat._ ”

Bucky had mewled, wiggled and whined his way into getting Steve to lift him effortlessly, the new change in position pressing that damn erection tight against his own.

 _“Alpha…_ ” Bucky had whined and Steve groaned, a punched out noise, a spit of a “ _Don’t you do that to me, you know what that does to me. I’m not budgin’, Bucky_ ,” a sloppy open-mouthed kiss near his ear, a sweeter, “ _Let’s wait, let’s learn. Wanna know everything about you, know everything that makes you make those pretty noises and makes you come. Wanna make you come so much, sugar, every orgasm you have after this is mine, you got that?”_

How could Bucky say no to that?

So, things slowed down minutely, a somewhat vague plan of action set into place. _Learn._ Okay, Bucky could do that, he could slow his pace and is desire enough to actually learn about Steve and himself and them together. He could do this. It wasn’t like it was a burden or anything.

The first orgasm Bucky has with Steve had been entirely accidental and the hottest thing that had happened to him at that point. This was one of those rainy Spring days where they had spent it together curled up on the couch, reading, periodically watching a few shows, Bucky working on some school work. Bucky had put together ingredients for a nice hearty meal, the chill in the air making him feel homey, providing for Steve in such a way making the Omega in him _preen._

He especially purred and felt sweet when Steve had wrapped him up in strong arms from behind, kissed at his neck and hummed, “ _Look at my sweet little Omega makin’ me a meal, cookin’ up dinner for his Alpha, so good, sugar.”_ The effect the Alpha had on Bucky was tremendous, no one ever able to make Bucky feel more like his designation and thoroughly enjoy it. He still pretended to swat at Steve’s hands, huffing out a laugh, trying not to present on all fours when he smelt Steve’s proud scent, one that was beginning to smell more and more like his own, and felt his tongue slip against his scent gland.

Steve rumbles, grabs him a little tighter.

“You at a good stopping point, Buck?” Steve whispers, hands running up and down his torso in the possessive way that makes him breathless. He was not at a good stopping point, needing things to reach a boiling point and then needing to simmer and prep the potatoes, but with one drawn-out pinch of his nipple he was flipping off the burner and putting a lid on his pot with shaky hands, turning in Steve’s arm.

 _"God_ , I don’t even know how you do this to me,” Bucky breathes into Steve’s mouth as he’s easily swept up into the Alpha’s arms gracefully, a little proud at how good he’s getting at it and how much he trusts the older man. Steve hums as he walks his way into the living room, asking, “Do what, honey?” as Bucky runs his hands up Steve’s hair, sucks his earlobe between his teeth, breathes in the other man’s scent heavily.

“Make me so weak, make me want to be a little Omega, make me want you all the fuckin’ time. _Christ,_ we haven’t even fucked yet, we haven’t seen each other naked, I just—”

“This goes both ways, Bucky. No one’s ever made me this crazy, knew it from the first time I met you that I’d be wrapped around your finger,” Steve explains in a rushed and heated voice as he moves to sit on the couch, Bucky squeezed in tight in his lap. They’re immediately kissing, harsh presses of lips, frantic and with little coordination but coordination can go to hell when lack thereof feels like this. Steve’s lips are demanding and plush and slick, working Bucky over beautifully, big hands cupping his jaw, and within a damn near minute Bucky begins to feel himself grow slick. It makes him whine, his noise falling into Steve’s mouth, makes him gasp and squeeze at Steve’s chest and before he can stop himself, he’s rolling his hips, humping into the Alpha’s lap.

“ _Fuck,_ you smell so _good_ god, Bucky, never smelt anything sweeter,” Steve groans into his chin and neck, nipping at the skin as he moves, one hand coming down to grip his ass, helping him roll more fervently into Steve’s lap. Steve talking about Bucky’s scent _does things_ to him, makes his brain go a little fuzzy, makes little helpless desperate noises punch out of his chest involuntarily. When Steve sucks on his Adam’s apple, keeping him in tight with the grip of his neck, he whines. When he keeps up the assault on his neck and brings the hand on his ass up to rub and pinch at his nipple underneath his shirt, Bucky is rock-hard and leaking.

“ _Steve,_ ” he gasps, his hips rolling in an almost embarrassing fashion, grinding his erection into the other man like a teenager. Bucky feels like the Alpha is consuming him, feels him all over, hand on his ass, fingers wrapped around his jaw, lips on his neck—Bucky can barely keep up let alone keep his eyes open. When Steve growls hotly into his scent gland it makes Bucky _shudder_ , makes him mewl in response, roll his hips deeper.

" _Yeah, sugar_ look at you, so sweet, so sensitive. _Goddamn,_ all mine, rubbing that pretty little cock all over my lap,” Bucky chokes out a shocked set of whimpers, _Steve’s never talked about his dick_ , brings his hands up to _clutch_ at Steve’s neck, noses pressed together. Bucky’s a panting mess in Steve’s lap, grinding his crotch against the Alpha’s _much_ larger one, mind racing with everything he wants to do with that cock and everything he knows Steve could do with it. The Alpha growls, an underlying rumble, licks into Bucky’s mouth hotly before moving onto his scent glad, licking over it before giving it one solid suck.

Bucky’s neck goes boneless. He feels his gut start to stir.

“ _Ohhh, ngh no_ , Steve don’t—” At the sounds of Bucky beginning to tell Steve to not do something his grip goes hard all over, his breathing harsh, nipping feverishly at Bucky’s neck. “No? Why not? Why you tellin’ your Alpha not to do somethin’?” Steve whispers, pushing his hips up to meet Bucky’s in delicious friction. Bucky can’t, he can’t tell Steve that he’s going to come right here in his fucking pants like a goddamn teenager if they keep this up but if he doesn’t he will and he can’t, _he can’t_.

“I—I don’t…I just, _oh shit_ ,” Bucky tries but it’s too much to ask to have him trying to speak and trying to fend off an impending orgasm. He whimpers, his thighs tremble in effort, his core clenches but then Steve is stilling his movements, pulls his head up to look at Bucky and, _fuck,_ he knows.

“ _Ohh_ , sugar you’re gonna come aren’t you?” Bucky lets out a hefty whine, shakes his head but can’t stop the roll of his hips, body betraying him but chasing its pleasure, and Steve lets out a guttural groan. “Oh, baby _do it_ ,” Steve encourages, grips the back of Bucky’s neck, squeezes at his ass with his other hand, “ _Do it,_ goddamnit lemme see it.” Bucky shouts, _sobs_ , cheeks going up in flames, Steve pressing the sides of their faces together, whether that be to better hear his own noises or for him to whisper in Bucky’s ear he isn’t sure.

“ _Noo, no_ it’s, _fuck,_ I’m not t-this…this e-easy,” Bucky swears but Steve is rumbling again, pressing kisses into Bucky’s cheek, using his strength to press and roll their bodies together against Bucky’s weak will. “ _Bucky_ , you are though, honey—you’re so easy for me, so easy for your Alpha.”

_Fuck._

“And that’s okay, s’okay, baby you’re allowed to be weak for me, want you to be weak for me. Wanna see it, wanna see you come. You gonna show me?” Bucky was close before, but Steve’s words push him even closer to the edge of that wave, to that cliff. He’s letting out little breathless puffs of noises into Steve’s ear, his scent gland throbs from Steve’s treatment, he feels his slick seep into his pants. It’s still mortifying but it’s suddenly _hot_ , something he wants to do for Steve, wants to share with him. His realization makes Bucky nod his head, makes him pull his head back to kiss sloppily at Steve’s mouth, makes him whimper out a weak “ _Uh-huh_.”

“ _Yeah_ , there he is, of course you do, Buck, of course you wanna be sweet for me,” Steve coos on his lips and Bucky feels his wide palm sweep across his ass a little, more towards the growing wet spot. Bucky is so close, is pumping his hips erratically in Steve’s lap, is completely drowning in the ocean eyes he’s looking into, in the warm smell of Alpha arousal that surrounds him. When Steve presses against his hole from the outside of his pants Bucky _sobs_.

“ _Oh,_ that’s gonna getchu there isn’t it, Buck? Your Alpha pressin’ against your slick little cunt is gonna make you come?”

It sure as shit is.

Bucky gasps, feels his dick twitch in his jeans, grapples at Steve’s jaw. He tries to keep his eyes open to look at the other man, but he’s so weak and so overwhelmed that they roll right back into his head when he feels that first wave, that first spurt. Bucky goes damn near boneless, moans high in the back of his throat, presses back onto Steve’s fingers and forward into his crotch. If Steve didn’t have a grip on his neck he would have surely fallen back but instead Steve is pulling his face into the crook of his neck, right at the Alpha’s scent gland. Bucky _moans_ , his legs and his core twitch, he wraps his arms tight around Steve’s neck.

“ _Ohh_ , sugar look at that, _look at that_ , prettiest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen, ain’t ya?” Steve’s voice is low in his ear, wave after wave of pleasure rolling through his core and his limbs, his _everything_. An orgasm has never felt like this, has never brought him to such a baser point in his being, and he decides in this moment that this is a momentous occasion, one that makes his bond with Steve grow stronger, one that makes him realize he wants nothing if he can’t have Steve Rogers in his life.

From that point forward, that shared orgasm of Bucky’s, they can’t keep their hands off of each other. Bucky feels himself growing obsessed, wonders if what he and Steve share is “normal”, wonders if it’s healthy. Steve is on his mind every minute of every day. Bucky is always half-hard and at the ready for Steve to grab at him or give him a _look_ , to whisper “ _C’mere...”_. Even his physical attraction grows. Steve will touch him innocently or walk into his apartment and his body immediately reacts, immediately grow damp between his legs. Even his scent has been altered, both of theirs has, a delicious mingle of their two unique scents coming together to create one.

Their “learning about each other” progresses one night. They spent the evening at the movie theater, eating an insane amount of popcorn and slurping on icees, meandered back to their apartment building hand in hand. They always naturally know where they are going, making an unconscious unanimous decision, and tonight they head to Bucky’s apartment. Laying out on the couch, bare feet and sweats, blankets and close touches lead easily to wandering hands and breathy kisses.

With Steve wearing sweatpants it is more than obvious how aroused the Alpha is, how hard he is, _how big he is._ Bucky has groped at Steve’s dick, has squeezed at what he can, rolled his own erection into his, but he has yet to see it, has yet to _put it in his mouth_. He grabs for Steve now, rubs his palm against the prominent bulge from his position half underneath the Alpha, Steve _groaning_ into Bucky’s neck, “ _Buck_ , baby,” and rolling his hips into the Omega’s hand.

He needs it, Bucky needs to make Steve come, want this fucking thing in his mouth, wants to choke on it.

“ _Steve_ , lemme—”

“Yeah, sugar _whatever you want_ , come on,” Steve hisses, kisses at the corner of his lips, pushy in the best way possible. Bucky wants this fucking thing in his ass but if he can’t have that he’ll take the next best thing. He feels like a feral animal, like all he can think of is _pleasing his Alpha_ and being the best little Omega he can be. His mouth waters, unable to wait, and he slithers down the couch, pushing off blankets on the way. He doesn’t even care that Steve is sideways on the couch, the line of his spine pressed against the back of it, and he wiggles down until he’s eye-level with Steve’s crotch.

_Oh._

_“Oh god,_ ” Bucky can’t help but whimper, _completely overwhelmed_ at the Alpha’s heady scent, the core of his being, whimpering again at the sheer embarrassment of his baser need to scent, to smell, to press his nose and rub into Steve’s crotch. The Alpha growls lowly, reaches down to grip at the back of Bucky’s head, awkward position and all, adds a little pressure to his scenting. _God,_ Bucky grows dizzy with need, doesn’t even realizes he is whining until his hand flies up to yank at the waistband of Steve’s sweats. The instant the tip of the Alpha’s cock is peaking out it’s in Bucky’s mouth, sliding between his lips.

“ _Ohh fuck yeah,_ oh god, Buck.” Bucky has never heard Steve sound like this, gutted and so obviously turned on and holding himself back and it all adds to the moment in which he’s finally _tasting_ Steve, _oh fuck_. It’s only the head, the fat head of his thick Alpha cock, but it’s _everything_ , has Bucky damn near shouting around it, suckling it into his mouth more for fear of it slipping out. He keeps it there, nestled between his lips, slurping at it like a whore, while he frantically tears Steve’s sweats down his legs and then—

_Jesus fucking Christ._

Bucky is so in love. He’s immediately entirely too torn between pulling off to get a good look at what Steve’s been packing but he also thinks it will physically pain him if he doesn’t keep Steve’s cock in his mouth. The Alpha’s hand is still in his hair, grip sitting comfortably between painful and just a cup of the head, and when Bucky brings his hands up to wrap it around Steve’s cock, the Omega’s eyes roll back a tad.

Steve is thick. Steve is hung. Steve has the prettiest large Alpha cock Bucky has ever seen, and he’s a frequent porn watcher. The head itself has Bucky’s jaw twinging a tad and he _revels_ in it, moans around it hungrily, flicks his tongue across the slit a few times, pumps his hand. “Oh _Christ_ , Bucky…sweetheart lemme at least, here wait—” Steve huffs out, a breath of a laugh on his tongue, and he’s sliding down on the couch, back in the cushions, in the perfect position for the Omega to lay between his tree-trunk thighs. He tears and rips at his sweats, yanks them down and off his ankles in a fervor, tosses them to the floor. Bucky makes a noise of protest, pushes the hem of Steve’s shirt up, exposing his thick torso, fuzzy with a layer of hair, the rest of his chest. Bucky purrs at the sight.

“ _There we go_ , uh-huh that’s better, sugar isn’t it? _Uh-huh_ , my sweet little Omega, _oh shit just look at ya..._ ”

Bucky is in heaven. If he thought Steve Rogers was the perfect specimen of an Alpha Male without his clothes on and just in his everyday life, he had no idea what he was in for when he got Steve even half-naked and panting and _hard_ . Bucky has never felt more powerful in his life but also more of a submissive little Omega. He has never felt the need to grovel, to _fight_ the urge to turn around and show the Alpha how slick he is, how pretty his hole is for his Alpha. He whines around a mouthful of cock at the effort it takes to stay where he is, runs both of his hands up and down each thick thigh, knee to hip, the only uncovered pieces of skin he has access to.

“ _Ohh_ fuck, Steve _oh god_ ,” Bucky whines high in the back of his throat, not daring to detach himself too much from Steve’s erection, lips running up and down and around his length, licking and kissing where he can. “You’re so big, _so fuckin’ big_ , Alpha. How’s this thing gonna fit inside my wet little cunt? Huh?”

 _Steve roars_.

“ _Oh fuck_ , baby it’ll fit just fine, it’ll slide right in and stretch you out so nicely, the perfect little Omega cunt for my fat knot,” Steve brings his hand down to cup the back of Bucky’s head as he kisses and suckles at the head sweetly, “ _Yeah_ , there you go—show your Alpha how much you love that cock, sweetheart.”

Bucky’s vision goes hazy, he hears himself whining again and Steve moans at the feeling Bucky’s vibrations bring to his cock. The hand on the back of his head isn’t pushy, is guiding, is so wide it almost cups the back of Bucky’s head entirely and all Bucky can think is alpha alpha _alpha ALPHAALPHA_. He knows damn well he can’t fit Steve’s entire cock into his mouth but shame on him if he doesn’t try. He slips his mouth over the head yet again and slides down, lips stretching, jaw aching, until he gags a little, fights through it and presses forward immediately.

“ _Yessss_ , there you go, honey, look at that. You takin’ it all, is that what you’re tryin’ for? _Look at me_ ,” Steve questions, orders, and Bucky’s eyes are immediately flicking up to the Alpha, moaning as he runs his tongue along the underside. Steve is beautiful. There’s just no other way to describe him. Ethereal in a way, like Bucky knows that no matter what happens his entire life has been changed by having known Steve. It’s an awfully mushy thought to have when he’s throat-fucking the other man’s cock but it makes the moment that much more intimate.

“ _Yeah_ , there he is, _aww shit_ , so pretty. You can do it, baby, know you’re stubborn, Buck. Know you want it,” Steve’s voice is deeper and more pointed than Bucky’s ever heard it. It hits his ears like velvet, soft and warm, runs down his spine from the back of his neck. His reaction makes Bucky wonder if the Alpha used his Voice on him, if this is a reaction to that, but it’s almost impossible to tell in a situation where his Voice isn’t necessary; Steve doesn’t need to press to get Bucky to suck on his cock. Bucky finds himself fighting the urge to respond with, “ _Yes, Alpha_ ,” and that’s…new.

Bucky readjusts, lays flat on the couch, gets more comfortable, spreads himself out. He pulls off of Steve with a gasp, is pumping his hand around Steve’s girth before his lips slip from the angry head of his cock. He looks up the line of Steve’s body as he jacks his cock against his cheeks and lips slowly, pulling back to run his teeth along the ridge of the crown before chasing it with the soothing feel of his tongue. He feels the other’s erection twitch in his grip, Steve shouting out a groan of a curse, and Bucky gets hot all over, wants to feel and see and taste Steve come apart underneath him. He bets Steve will taste amazing shooting off in his mouth, knows he’s a sight to die for coming.

He sucks the head of Steve’s cock into his mouth again, pumps his hand, and on the downstroke, he feels it— _Steve’s knot_. His reaction makes him feel feral, the punched-out whine and the roll of his own hips into the couch beneath him aggressive, but _oh_ getting his hands on it the first time is somethin’ else. Bucky is equal parts terrified, aroused, and shocked at the size and feel of it. He wraps a hand around the enlarged root of his cock, _squeezes at it_ , brings his other hand up to continue fisting at the length, his mouth around the tip. Steve sounds about as wrecked as Bucky feels.

“ _Oh, sugar_ yes, _oh god!_ You feel that? Feel my knot all ready for you? That’s all yours, baby _all yours_. You gonna treat it right? Know that pretty cunt is gonna treat it right.” Steve is a rambler when it comes to sex, loud and filthy, noises and words, makes Bucky blush from his head to his toes but also leaves him dripping. He gasps around a mouthful, tightens his grip around Steve’s knot, feels his slick begin to seep through his shorts, wonders if—

Steve’s growl confirms that he has indeed smelt Bucky’s growing arousal and Bucky _preens_. “ _Oh fuck,_ smell so sweet, Buck, smell like a goddamn peach pie. C’mere, I need to—”

Bucky has approximately .2 seconds to realize he is being moved, growling and spitting at the Omega-fight in him to keep hold of his Alpha’s cock, but Steve’s shushes him, chuckles lightly. He doesn’t register the hands under his armpits, barely the kiss Steve presses to his lips, before he’s being spun and pushed around. His shorts are torn down his legs, pool at the floor. He whines in confusion, of the force, of the need to _suck_ , but then Steve is whispering, “ _Get up here, get that pretty ass up here and lemme taste what’s mine”_ and—

_Oh fuck._

_Oh fuck._

When Bucky comes back to, blacking out for a few seconds in pure arousal, his thighs are on either side of Steve’s face, his knees planted into the cushions underneath his armpits, still turned in the direction of Steve’s dick.

Even then he kneels there dumbfounded, knows what the position implies but there’s no way Steve would want to--

“S-Steve?” he questions, voice thick with arousal and disbelief, feels the other man’s breath on his ass cheek. Steve hums, brings his hands up to squeeze and spread Bucky’s ass some and Bucky chokes on his next breath. Steve purrs, voice lower than he’s ever heard it, whispers an awed, “Yeah, baby, _look at you_ ,” but that is no answer to his implied question. He feels Steve’s teeth dig into the meat of an ass cheek and he shouts, falls forward a little. “There you go, lemme lick at this little hole while your mouth is full’a my cock, baby, yeah?” Steve guides and _fuck_ , there’s a palm pressing gently onto the back of his head and the guidance is entirely necessary when Bucky’s brain feels like this. 

It’s only the natural thing to do to open his mouth and let his Alpha’s cock slip between his lips like it’s coming home. Bucky’s mouth is full, three-fourths of the way down Steve’s cock when he feels the flat of the Alpha’s tongue sweep directly over his hole. He can barely hear his own squeal over the gluttonous groan that erupts out of Steve, gasping out, “ _Oh, sugarrr_ taste so fuckin’ good, knew it this entire goddamn time. _Oh fuck_.” 

Steve digs in like Bucky’s ass is his last meal and with a mouthful of cock Bucky can’t imagine how this situation could get any better. Steve’s tongue is strong and purposeful, laving over his wet hole, getting acquainted with the taste, moaning into Bucky’s skin, and the brunette can’t control it when his eyes roll back into his skull. He can’t get enough oxygen, can’t fucking breathe in through his nose fast enough, is a whimpering mess around Steve’s erection and when he feels the Alpha tip his hips up, bring a hand up to press gently on the back of Bucky’s head, he is reminded that he too has a job to do.

“Come on, Buck put that pretty mouth to work, honey,” Steve reminds him right before his lips seal over his cunt and he _sucks_ and _oh shit_ what a feeling, what a sensation. Bucky bobs his head as he whines, brings one hand up to wrap around Steve’s girth, the other to squeeze at the Alpha’s knot, and it feels so good when his moans hit Bucky’s ears. 

It’s sloppy, both in technique and in the flow of all kinds of fluids, but Bucky has never felt this way, has never experienced such a multitude of sensations. He’s never been pleased at the same time he is pleasing someone else and it takes an active effort to keep up, to focus on working Steve’s cock at the same time Steve’s tongue is in his cunt. Bucky has given much better head in his life but the Alpha makes it sound like he has never received better. His moans vibrate and press into Bucky’s skin, makes him moan, and when he arches his back he gasps at the feel of his cock pressing into Steve’s chest. Steve chuckles.

“Ohh, look at you rubbin’ yourself all over your Alpha, there you go, baby. Such a hot little thing.” Bucky keens, pulls off Steve’s cock to moan, relying on his hands to tug and pull at his length instead, gives what he can little kitten licks and kisses. When Steve points his tongue and _fucks_ it into Bucky’s cunt he shouts, feels the familiar coil in his gut, whines, “ _Steve…_.”. The Alpha hums in acknowledgement, smacks a hand down across his ass cheek, action making Bucky suck the tip of Steve’s cock back into his mouth greedily, pumps his hand on this delicious girth. Steve groans, Bucky feels the cock in his hand twitch, the knot encased by the other one inflate a little. It makes Bucky moan heartily. 

“You better make me come first or you don’t come at all.”

Bucky goes a little dizzy. Steve has never given him an order, has never fully gone all Alpha on him, and it... _it does things_ to Bucky, makes him feel a little floaty but makes his focus on Steve’s pleasure sharpen. He slurps more of Steve’s cock into his mouth, fucks it into his throat with fervor, gags a little and whimpers, which makes Steve groan deep in his chest. He grows a little frantic when he feels his own balls grow tight. He can’t come, not yet, _not yet_ , needs to make his Alpha come first.

Steve is doubling his efforts, flutters and laps and even nips on Bucky’s cunt, makes him whine low and long. Bucky bobs his head rapidly, fucks his hand over Steve’s cock in time with his mouth, squeezes _hard_ at the Alpha’s knot and--

“ _Ohh, fuck me_ yes, baby, gonna make me come,” Steve croons, hand coming up to hold onto the back of Bucky’s head as his hips begin to thrust up into his mouth. It’s a lot, Steve is a lot, but Bucky is stubborn, opens up his throat, the crude noises of his mouth being fucked hitting his ears. “Squeeze my knot, sugar _yes, there oh god_ . I’m gonna come and you’re gonna swallow it all, you hear me?” Bucky can’t respond but he shouts around a mouthful, ruts against Steve at yet another order from his Alpha. “Gonna come eatin’ this sweet cunt out, yeah? _Ahh, fuck gonna--_ ”

Steve’s mouth is back on him, all tongue and lips and eagerness, and Bucky barely has the mind to relax his throat before Steve is grunting and groaning, shooting off in the back of Bucky’s throat. Just like his cock and it’s size, Steve is... _a lot_. His come is bitter and sweet, explodes on his palate, across his tongue, in his mouth, and Bucky can’t help but groan deep at the taste and the feeling of being used in such a way. He works his throat, swallows as much as he can, but can’t help it when he chokes a little, pulls off and feels some spurt on his chin, down his neck.

Steve’s hand comes down onto his ass again, encouraging as he gruffs out, “Atta boy, you gonna come now?” and Bucky _is,_ wants to so bad, sits up a little on Steve’s face and rolls his hips filthily into the Alpha’s mouth, his tongue. It takes him maybe five seconds of fucking back onto the other man’s face, rutting against his chest, to feel the beginning of his own orgasm, that build and fire, and within another three seconds his cock shoots off.

Bucky brings his hand down to wrap around his own cock, jacks himself off quickly to prolong his orgasm, and he feels Steve moan between his cheeks, vibrations making him whimper and sob. He licks at Steve’s come on his chin, feels it drip down his neck, feels the other man’s tongue rub at his center as his hips roll a little more. He’s a gasping mess by the time his orgasm passes, exhausted to the bone, and his Alpha gives his ass one more slap, kisses over his hole once more as well. 

“So fuckin’ good, baby _mmm_ …” Steve mumbles into the skin of Bucky’s cheek as he kisses and licks the rest of his own come off of the Omega’s face. Bucky thinks he might pass out, both because of exhaustion and arousal.

Steve is pressed in tight to Bucky’s neck when he says goodnight that evening when he stiffens a tad, inhales and groans into Bucky’s neck. “ _Baby_ , your heat comin’ soon?” Bucky chuckles, pushes at Steve’s arms, rolls his eyes when he feels the Alpha’s cock harden against his stomach. “No, you animal. Not supposed to start for another week and a half. Quit!” Steve nips at the younger man’s neck, in close proximity to his scent gland, groans and presses him against the door tighter. “I don’t know sugar--you smell so _good_ , so different. I think you might be closer than you think.”

Bucky knows his body, doesn’t believe Steve, doesn’t give his words a second thought.

He ends up waking up in the middle of that night a little achy, a little grumpy, a little hot. He finds himself pulling more blankets around his body, grabbing a few extra pillows from the closet. It makes him feel better, makes him drift back to sleep without putting two and two together, seeing the connection between the way his body feels, his actions, and Steve’s suspicions. 

His sleep is rudely interrupted hours later, surely far too early for a Friday morning when he doesn’t have a shift until later, by knocking on the door. He huffs angrily, ignores it, rolls over and tucks himself deeper into his comforter. If they really wanted Bucky to get out of bed and go to the door they would stick around. 

The knocking persists, a few knocks turning into a few pounds, and then a sing-song shout of, “Bucky Barnes! I’ve got bagels!” 

_Damn_. Damn Steve Rogers and damn pillowy tasty authentic New York bagels. _Damn_. 

Bucky pulls on shorts he finds by his bed, a sweatshirt hanging over his desk chair. He shuffles through his apartment, pulling on the sweatshirt, opens the front door and--

_What the fuck._

It’s Steve all right, sure as shit is the Alpha, but the only pieces of clothing he has on are a pair of athletic shorts and running shoes. He is art, is a masterpiece, all broad and muscular and _strong_ , sweet Christ does he look strong. He’s a little sweaty, looks like a goddamn wet dream and an actual Greek God, _a man_ , and Bucky should be jumping his bones, should be pulling him into his apartment and climbing him like a fucking tree but those aren’t the thoughts that go through Bucky’s mind. Instead he feels like _raging_. He’s livid. 

Steve has been walking around like this all morning? Has been working out and running through the city looking _like this_ ? How many people saw him, witnessed this unbonded Alpha traipse around the city? How could Steve just walk around like this when...when he is _Bucky’s?_ How could he let so many others see him this way, the way Bucky and only Bucky should see him? Steve is smiling at him, _beaming_ , bag of bagels in hand and Bucky shuts the door right on that handsome face. 

Well...slams the door. 

He knows he is being ridiculous, dramatic, that he is throwing a fit like a child but he’s so upset and can’t contain it, is _moody_. He’s a few steps backed away from the door when he hears Steve on the other side let out a chuckle of disbelief. “Buck? Baby, hey! What’s goin’ on?” he asks in a loud voice, one that will ensure Bucky can hear him from the other side. Bucky would normally hold his tongue, be patient and breathe through his feelings, but he would normally never put himself in this position if he’s being honest. 

He’s never reacted like this to anything. 

“You…” he starts to yell back but he doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t want to tell Steve why he’s so upset, almost saying it realizing he sounds ridiculous. This is embarrassing. “I what?” Steve asks and Bucky can hear what he is assuming is Steve’s forehead plop against the door. Bucky fidgets on his feet, whines a little, spits out, “Where are your clothes?!” He can feel Steve’s brain working through Bucky’s question, his own thoughts, and he shouts back, “Bucky, honey--I went running!” Bucky stomps his foot, _this is ludicrous,_ damn near shrieks, “You can’t wear a shirt?! You just let all those people look at you?”

Bucky can hear it click in Steve’s mind and he blushes profusely where he stands. 

“ _Sugar_ ,” Steve starts and goddamnit he had to use his favorite pet name, pitch his voice a little lower, “Open the door, Buck. Come on.”

 _Damn Steve Rogers_. 

Bucky opens the door but he isn’t happy about it and he immediately turns and heads in the direction of the kitchen, leaves Steve to let himself in and close the door behind him. Steve doesn’t run after him, not one to chase or push, and Bucky preoccupies himself with getting out a bread knife and a butter knife. He asks Steve, “Do you want me to get the toaster out?” as he slams the silverware drawer shut. He doesn’t respond, instead sets the bag of bagels on the counter, turns towards Bucky with a small smile on his face, a knowing look in his eyes. Bucky chooses to ignore him, grabs for the bagels instead. 

“ _Bucky_ ,” Steve croons, voice containing a teasing edge to it, and Bucky turns around, goes to cut his bagel instead. He doesn’t want to talk about his reaction, doesn’t want to talk about his feelings, is embarrassed beyond belief. He’s never really reacted with such envy or jealousy, with any possessiveness, and to feel it so quickly within minutes of waking up makes him feel off-balance. He continues to choose to ignore the other man until he feels and smells Steve get closer. His knees grow a little weak when gets a whiff at the Alpha’s musky scent, the added sweat and grime doing things to him. 

_“Sweetheart_ …” Steve purrs, a thick arm slipping easily around his waist, simultaneously pressing Bucky into the counter while pulling him back against the hard line of Steve’s body. Bucky wiggles, whimpers in embarrassment and anger, warns, “ _Steve, I swear to God_ …” but he is ignored. Steve instead presses hot slow kisses against his neck, up to his ear and _damn Steve Rogers_. The fight leaves Bucky’s system a little. 

The fight leaves Bucky’s system even more when Steve whispers, “ _Omega_ ,” heavy in his ear, another thick arm curling around to join the other. Steve is so big, so strong, so hot against Bucky’s own body it makes him feel weak all over, makes him want to bare his neck and spread his thighs. He finds himself growing warm and slick in his shorts and he swore he wasn’t that easy, his physical reaction to three seconds of Steve touching him adding to his embarrassment. 

“My sweet Omega feelin’ a little feisty? A little possessive towards his Alpha? Hmm?” Steve’s words remind him again why he was upset, that Steve had been prancing around and showing his strength shirtless all over the neighborhood, and Bucky lets out a growl of a noise through his clenched teeth. “Don’t like others seein’ you like that!” he whines, struggles and makes Steve work a little to keep Bucky in his arms. Steve kisses his temple, his cheek, asks, “Like what, Buck?” _Right,_ like Steve doesn’t know what he looks like, what he was doing. 

“All...all naked! And strong and big and muscley! Don’t like it, don’t want others to see you like that all...all…”

“All what, honey?”

Bucky doesn’t want to say it but whines out a soft, “All unbonded and unclaimed,” practically stomping his feet in the process. Steve lets out a low and long noise, not quite a moan but not quite a growl, scent growing headier and thicker. He turns his head and his tongue reaches out to lap over Bucky’s scent gland roughly, makes the Omega keen. 

“ _Bucky_ , _baby_ …” he breathes, hand of one arm reaching up to grab at Bucky’s chin, keeping him in tight as he continues to speak hypnotically into Bucky’s ear, “I don’t need a mark to tell me that I’m yours and you’re mine. I know who I belong to.” Bucky’s chest expands and tightens at the same time, like his relief in hearing Steve say he is Bucky’s is replaced and wound tight with arousal. 

“You know who you belong to?” Steve asks before sucking _hard_ on his gland, which in turn makes Bucky moan and go a little boneless, neck lolling to the side and back. He goes to respond, chokes on his words a little, _he knows he’s Steve’s_ , and the Alpha runs his teeth across his throbbing gland. Bucky squeals, high and tight in the back of his throat, sounding even more strained in the Alpha’s grip on his chin. Steve has never used his teeth in an assault on his scent gland and Bucky doesn’t know if he could have handled it if he did. It’s like electricity rockets through his entire being, each limb, up his neck, makes his fingers and toes tingle, the nape of his neck.

“You know who you belong to?” Steve asks again, tone stern, hold on him tightening, and Bucky manages to get out a “ _Uh-huh_ , s’you, Steve. I-I belong to you.” The Alpha _purrs_ , kisses Bucky’s cheek before running his hands all over his sensitive skin, murmurs, “Damn right,” dragging his hand down Bucky’s body. He hadn’t even realized he was hard in his shorts, is just beginning to register Steve’s own erection pressing into his lower back, when Steve’s cups him, wraps a big warm hand around his cock through his bottoms.

“You know I’ll give you that bite, that fuckin’ mark, know I’ll make you my sweet Omega when the time comes, don’t you worry your pretty little head, sugar.”

Steve’s words take the breath right out of Bucky’s chest. They’ve never had this discussion, have never talked about bonding or mating or anything of the like, and hearing the Alpha’s words make him feel like he’s leaving his own body. He hears himself respond with a whimper of, “ _Alpha_ ,”, feels Steve’s cock dig into his lower back as he grinds back into his, rubs his body along the line of Steve’s. 

“Yeah, baby already so desperate for it, for that knot, that bite, _shit_ ,” Steve groans into his shoulder, hand running under his sweatshirt to tweak at Bucky’s nipple, rolling his hips into Bucky’s own frantic movement. Bucky gasps, throws his hands against the counter in front of him to better brace and strengthen the power behind his movements. Steve’s hand kneads and squeezes a bit more at his cock before dropping to grab at his hip. 

“ _Fuck_ , baby you smell so good, _shit._ You’re gonna go into heat, can smell it. _Wanna fuck you so bad_ ,” Steve groans and Bucky joins him, letting out his own hysterical noise, a hand flying back to tug blindly at Steve’s shorts, wishes he were strong enough to rip them off of his body. Bucky’s hands tearing at his shorts gives the Alpha an invisible green light, makes him moan some and help Bucky pull them down his thick thighs, yanks Bucky’s own shorts down in the process. 

The smell of arousal hits Bucky like a ton of bricks, makes him fall forward a little, Steve grabbing onto him, yanking him back against his broad chest. He feels like he is on fire, his mind mushy, his legs weak as Steve’s scent swirls around him, makes his cock twitch, his hole leak. “Fuck, Omega so sweet, so sweet for me aren’t ya?” Steve asks as he reaches between their bodies to slide a few fingers across his hole brazenly, like he _owns_ Bucky, makes him aware of just how wet he is. Steve groans, deep in his chest, and Bucky can feel his cock, can feel it so thick and hot against his ass. He whines, gasps. 

“ _Goddamn_ , so wet for me, look at that,” and Bucky _is_ wet, wetter than normal, just like Steve’s actions are a littler pushier than normal, his strength coming out more when he is weak with arousal. Before Bucky has a chance to beg or make another noise Steve is taking his own cock and pressing it between Bucky’s thighs, kicking his legs together, the Omega’s slick thighs the perfect home for that Alpha cock. It’s overwhelming, to feel Steve’s erection pressed tight against his balls, against his own cock, against his slick hole; it’s the closest thing they’ve had to sex and it’s damn near about to kill him. 

Steve _growls_ , hand going to give Bucky’s cock attention, leans over him and presses them into the counter with little coordination. He’s humping and rutting into the Omega, fucking his slippery thighs, like an animal, so different than the controlled and reserved Alpha that Bucky is used to, but it’s exhilarating, makes Bucky sob. " _Fuck, sugar!_ Oh shit, not even fuckin’ that soakin’ hole and you feel so good--can’t imagine what it’s gonna be like to slip inside this sweet little body and knot you for the first time,” Steve mumbles into his ear, tears at his earlobe, skin smacking skin in a resounding echo across the quiet apartment. 

Bucky moans, hiccups some when Steve’s wide hand begins to jack him in time with his messy thrusts and _that’s_ almost too much, almost too much feeling and sensation, makes tears well up in his eyes. He’s close already, so fuckin’ easy for his Alpha, feels his gut stir and his core tighten, whimpers a desperate, “ _Steve, Alpha! Please!”_ as his fingers rush back to dig into the tacky skin of Steve’s stuttering hip. He rumbles, fucks the head of Bucky’s cock between his fingers a little, makes the Omega’s toes curl, his mouth drop open. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna come, know that face, those noises by now. You gonna come? Your Alpha gonna make your pretty little cunt squirt all over his cock?” 

_Jesus fucking Christ._

Bucky is immediately shaking, Steve holding him between himself and the counter like it’s nothing, the smaller shrieking, babbling in embarrassment, “ _Steve, no no, nono,”_ but his Alpha doesn’t like no, doesn’t like his Omega to be anything but willing and ready. Steve snarls, every sensation and feeling and touch notching up a level, the Alpha grunting, “ _Yes_. Yes, Bucky. You’ve already made me messy, just finish it, fuckin’ finish it, give it to me,” and a command is a command. 

His orgasm is a shock to his entire system. His ears begin ringing almost immediately and he doesn’t even want to know what kind of noises he is making, doesn’t need an added embarrassment. His body goes so tight and rigid but bucks in Steve’s arms so wildly that the other man needs to wrap him up in said thick arms to contain him. Even when Steve’s hand on his cock moves to hold him down, his dick spurts and drools on its own, the pressure from Steve’s own erection fucking frantically between his thighs enough to keep him going. 

He isn’t entirely sure if he truly squirted but he’s leaking so profusely that it sure fucking feels like it, wet slippery fucking noises, and Bucky hears himself shriek. His teeth ache, his body trembles, and Steve is gasping, “ _Gonna fuckin’ come, oh shit_ ,” and Bucky wants that, _loves_ that. The space between his thighs is immediately empty and Bucky can hear and feel Steve’s fist flying over his cock, only able to wheeze out an, “ _Alpha,_ ” before he feels that hot splash of come on his ass. Steve is beautiful when he comes, is so vocal, loves to pull Bucky in tight, loves to press his teeth into Bucky’s skin, does so now, tears into the skin of his shoulder. Bucky wishes it were his neck. 

When Steve settles and falls into Bucky’s bent form more, the Omega feels warm come slip down his thigh, down the crack of his ass. It’s the hottest fucking thing he’s ever experienced. 

“You sure you aren’t about to start your heat, Buck?” Steve inquires softly, kissing behind his ear. Bucky honestly isn’t sure at this point, thinking back to last night and his feelings and sensations this morning, tells Steve so.

Their answer comes to them the next morning. Bucky wakes early with gasp and a groan to an onslaught of sensations: his body is on _fire_ , he’s sweating profusely, his cunt is _aching_. He groans out a weak, “ _No, no, no_ ,” as he rolls on his stomach to push his ass up into the air, hoping it’ll ease anything at all. It doesn’t; it makes it worse, makes his hole clench around nothing infuriatingly. It makes him want his Alpha, makes him want Steve, makes him cry out in a weak voice, “ _Alpha_ ,” and then--

There’s frantic pounding on his front door. Bucky whimpers when he hears Steve’s voice. 

“Bucky! Bucky, baby open the door! Open it or I tear it off its fucking hinges!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE YOU I PROMISE I AM SO SORRY.  
> Please please please let me know what you think! I am so nervous posting this and would love all feedback. Comments, emails, messages or asks on Tumblr-- all of it. Send it! @howdoyousleep3. 💖


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s so full, fuller than he’s ever been in his life, feels his Alpha inside of his cunt with every frantic breath he takes and with every breath he can’t help but whimper. He’s never felt so satisfied, the Omega in him preening and panting and sated. This is everything he has waited for, in his life and in his relationship with Steve. Steve is perfect, the most perfect Alpha that Bucky could ever ask for, is everything to Bucky, and the only thing that makes him realize he’s shedding tears is Steve’s lips on his cheeks.  
> “Oh, Buck…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit it is done.   
> I cannot thank you enough for sticking with me and being so patient. I'll go off in the end notes.   
> This chapter was actually looked over by @chiffoun this time, major shoutout to her.   
> Enjoy!

_ Their answer comes to them the next morning. Bucky wakes early with gasp and a groan to an onslaught of sensations: his body is on fire, he’s sweating profusely, his cunt is aching. He groans out a weak, “No, no, no,” as he rolls on his stomach to push his ass up into the air, hoping it’ll ease anything at all. It doesn’t; it makes it worse, makes his hole clench around nothing infuriatingly. It makes him want his Alpha, makes him want Steve, makes him cry out in a weak voice, “Alpha,” and then-- _

_ There’s frantic pounding on his front door. Bucky whimpers when he hears Steve’s voice.  _

_ “Bucky! Bucky, baby open the door! Open it or I tear it off its fucking hinges!”  _

Bucky goes weak when he hears his Alpha threaten to break down his front door to get to him. _His Alpha_. He has an Alpha and he’s perfect. He’s sweet and he draws and he is protective and he loves to hold Bucky when they sleep and he eats ass like a pro and he makes Bucky laugh. Bucky loves his Alpha, he loves Steve. He needs to get up, needs to get to the door, but he hurts all over, his brain is all mushy. All he can think about is how he wants his Alpha’s knot, wants him to fill him up beyond the brim, wants it immediately.

He needs to get up.

“ _Bucky! Open the door, baby! Come on! Let me in!”_

From his place on the bed he can hear the door hinges creak, can hear how hard Steve is throwing his body into its frame, knows that the Alpha is holding back. His Alpha is so strong. He loves his Alpha. He slides and turns from his position in bed, his feet hitting the cool floor, a small relief in an onslaught of feelings, and manages to get to his bedroom door before needing to stop. He mewls, a pathetic noise, leans against the frame, _can smell his Alpha,_ his Alpha is in _rut, oh._

“ _Steve,_ St—Alpha,” is all he gets out before he hears the rumble of a growl, _a possessive noise,_ a warning to others but like warm honey running down his spine to him, makes him let out his own happy purr in response.

“ _Baby_ , come on, open the door,” and his Alpha sounds impatient now, this tone sounds like a warning and Bucky doesn’t like that, doesn’t want to displease his Alpha. With another sad noise he is pushing off the door frame and towards his front door, towards his Alpha. Bucky hates walking around and moving excessively when he is in heat, each step and movement making him feel incredibly exhausted, making him very aware of how empty and slick he is. This is no different. Bucky hates the trek to the door, hates how long it is taking and how slow he is moving, but he can hear Steve, can hear his sweet and loving Alpha on the other side, encouraging him and making low noises of his own.

“ _Alpha,_ ” he whimpers when he gets close, his knees going weak not even ten steps to the door, hitting the floor quite gracelessly. It doesn’t hurt, he isn’t in pain, but it sounded much worse than it was and that is all Steve has to go off of on the other side of the door. He hears his Alpha shout his name, hears a gigantic thud, knows Steve is going to break is door down if he does that two, three more times. He starts crawling, body stuttering at the position he put himself in, all fours making him want to arch his back, making him more aware of how goddamn empty he is.

“ _Steve! Alpha,_ don’t…don’t break the d-door, isn’t…isn’t safe,” he says weakly, knows that the Alpha will halt his actions at the thought of not having a safe nest, of not being able to protect his Omega. He hears the crack of a palm come down on the wall next to the door, another snarl, “ _Omega, I swear to god! Bucky!_ ” and then he’s there, he can reach for the door and grasp the handle and lock from the floor with a huff of a chuckle, a whine almost.

Bucky is swept away. He can’t even keep up with how quickly things happen as soon as he opens the door, just being overwhelmed with a sense of relief of no longer having a barrier between himself and his Alpha. He is physically swept away as well, carried and pushed back a few steps, slid across his floor and pushed onto his back forcefully, and _fuck_ it feels good to be manhandled. He can feel Steve on and around him, isn’t sure where he is or what he is doing at first, but touching the Alpha, _feeling him touch his skin,_ sets him on fucking fire.

“ _Alpha,_ Alpha, please please I—”

“Hi, baby hi _oh, sugar_ look at you, _oh fuck_ lemme—come here,” and Steve is laying on top of him there on the entryway floor, caging him in, pressing his face tight into Bucky’s neck, scenting him, rubbing his own scent onto Bucky’s skin. The younger whines, body shuddering, arching his neck to better let his Alpha smell him, scent him, the hair covering his jawline rubbing across Bucky’s sensitive skin making him go boneless underneath the larger man.

“ _Fuck_ , Bucky could smell you through the floor, smelt like a bunch’a peach pies, my sweet little Omega, _god_ —” Steve can’t stop moving, can’t stop from rolling his body into the Omega’s, can’t figure out what position he wants to be in, which makes it hard for Bucky to gain any purchase on his Alpha, simply trying to keep up. It feels right spreading his legs, feels right arching into Steve, feels _great_ to have one of the Alpha’s wide palm cup his ass, run to his knee to then tuck it up and around his waist.

He can’t stop making small noises, desperate ones, cries out sharp and high when his Alpha licks and sucks at his scent gland, presses in tight with a groan of, “ _Fuck, Omega_ ,” and he’s—

Bucky’s face-first in the floor before he can even take another breath. The high noise he hears comes from himself, a startled but pleased mewl, not an ounce of worry in his bones, never worry with his Alpha, but there is desperation. He doesn’t know if he is visibly trembling, but his insides feel like they are vibrating which then makes it difficult to push up off the floor, to get up. But _oh,_ his Alpha is shoving him back down with a low rumble, a tight grip on the back of his neck that makes Bucky go boneless, like putty in the floor.

“There you go, sugar lemme just— _goddamnit,_ can’t think straight around you, not with how fuckin’ perfect you smell and—” Bucky’s briefs are ripped clean down his legs as Steve bites out his words, chaotic energy making Bucky whine yet again, “—how fuckin’ good you look, _fuck_ show me, show me how ready you are for your Alpha, baby.”

_Oh, presenting._ Bucky’s Alpha is blatantly asking for him to present and he’s managing to push his lower half off the floor, rolling his cheek into the cool wood beneath him, before he can get out his small punched-out noise. He hisses out a slurred, “ _Yesss_ ,” at the feeling of presenting, of showing Steve how ready he is, how much Bucky wants to be filled. He spreads his thighs apart more, can _feel_ his slick slide down his own balls, his thighs, hiccups through a sob when he feels Steve’s hands come down to spread his cheeks apart to get a better view.

“ _Oh_ , honey look at that. So hungry, just want somethin’ in there, don’t ya?”

“ _Alpha,_ Steve p-please I—”

“You wanna come? You need it?” What feels to be three of Steve’s fingers slide down and around Bucky’s opening, so sensitive it makes him cry out, makes tears well up in his eyes. He sniffles, frantically nods his head where it rests on the floor, Steve’s other hand grounding on the arch of his lower back.

“I need it, _I need it_ please, p-please I—”

“Uh-huh, sugar, just need to come, I’ll give you everything you need,” Steve coos and waits no longer, presses into Bucky’s messy cunt with two thick fingers. The movement is a good kind of painful, isn’t rushed, but it is overwhelming in the best way possible, shoves the breath right out of Bucky’s chest. His toes curl as he squeals, pushing his ass back into his Alpha’s touch, movement making Steve rumble and move the hand that was on the small of his back up to the nape of his neck.

“There ya go, Buck, that’s nice isn’t it, baby?” Steve asks as two fingers become three on the slide out and press back in. Bucky’s vision swims as he drools on the floor a little, being full something he can somewhat give himself, but the complete feeling over ownership something he isn’t used to. He’s only shared his heat with one other person, and it wasn’t memorable in any fashion, so to have someone with him whom he loves, shoving him down face-first into the floor as their fingers pump in and out of his achy cunt sends him right over the edge.

He loves his Alpha.

He thinks he says that out loud when he shoots all over the floor beneath his body, feels small splashes of his come bounce back off the floor, landing against his torso, his thighs. It feels like more of a release, a minute one, but it isn’t very satisfying, makes Bucky a little light-headed as he lets out a set of whimpers. “ _Fuck yeah,_ that’s my boy, look at that. So pretty, Buck. _Open_ ,” and there are fingers in his mouth, two of them, wet and sweet, a little salty and—

_Oh._

He suckles at his Alpha’s fingers, the combination of the older man’s skin and Bucky’s own slick making him whine, makes his still-hard dick jump, his now-empty slightly fucked-open hole clench around nothing devastatingly. No one has ever fed _him_ to _himself_ and that’s…

He loves his Alpha.

Before he can take another breath the fingers in his mouth are being ripped away and he’s being turned onto his back, swept up and cradled into thick arms, a broad warm chest. He wonders if time is moving slowly or if Steve is moving frantically, or if it’s a combination of both, as the Alpha makes his way into Bucky’s bedroom with him in tow. He’s so grateful for Steve, forever grateful for him for many reasons, but especially because there is no way Bucky could have walked into the bedroom himself, his thighs trembling where they are wrapped around a narrow waist.

The Alpha’s scent is damn near overpowering, swarms and swims up through Bucky’s nostrils, through his open mouth, the Omega naturally suckling and nuzzling on Steve’s scent gland without fully realizing what he is doing. He whines when he thinks about the fact that this is how much of his heat will probably pass, with him fuzzy in his brain, remembering very little. He wants to remember, wants to be able to recall every detail after this passes, desires to hold this memory close. When the older man goes to lay Bucky out on the bed, spread him out, he doesn’t want to let go, _can’t_ , remembers the last time he was in heat and in this exact predicament.

But this time his Alpha doesn’t let him go.

He cradles the back of Bucky’s head with a large palm, the Omega’s neck going boneless at the feeling of being bodily pressed into the mattress, into his nest, beneath him by such a protective and beautiful and built Alpha. His insides feel like they’re molten lava, swimming in unrest within, and his hands finally grasp onto sun-kissed hair, tugging at it and holding onto it to stay afloat.

“ _Steve…_ ” Bucky mewls, repeats it a few times as he spreads his legs like a good submissive, can’t seriously process the movement of his own body but he can _feel_ it and god, does he feel it. Steve is letting out warm gruff noises every other second, the equivalent to Bucky’s whimpers, rolls his body and pushes them both up the bed a little roughly, lifts and drags Bucky like he weighs nothing at all.

“Got a pretty nest here, sweetheart. Been spendin’ a few days buildin’ it up for us, haven’t you?” Steve’s voice feels like it’s _inside_ of Bucky, all warm and pointed and flowing, the compliment going straight to Bucky’s heart and straight to his cunt. He manages to purr through a wide smile, a pretty grin, turns his head to suck the Alpha’s earlobe into his mouth as he rolls his hips up into Steve’s. He loves that he feels like he’s being sweet for his Alpha, that he’s providing for him in such a way. He’ll always build up a nest for them, soft blankets and pillows, multiple comforters, soft t-shirt fabric because Steve will be with Bucky and it won’t matter that he runs cooler at night with his big warm Alpha laying next to him.

“Wan’you to fuck me init,” he slurs, stretches the line of his own body against his Alpha’s, pulls Steve’s head in towards his own, immediately licks into his mouth, crashes their lips together. It’s messy and wet and there is absolutely zero coordination but it’s perfect, makes Bucky’s toes curl when he can hear _and_ feel Steve’s groan of approval. Steve is so big, is so strong, overpowers Bucky in the best of ways, presses and moves them both where he wants, fingers tight on the Omega’s thighs, his waist.

” _Ohh,_ yeah, honey? You finally want me to fuck you? _My baby_ , my sweet Buck, been waitin’ so long, can’t anymore, _can’t_.” It’s like Steve can’t bear the thought of pulling away from the brunette, speaks right into his mouth, Bucky moaning in agreement between pursed lips and kisses, nodding as he shoves and pushes at the waistband of Steve’s sweatpants. He can feel his forehead begin to bead up with sweat, is so very aware that he’s so empty now that he’s been promised to be fucked full.

Steve scrambles, an uncoordinated bundle of movements, shoves and yanks his own pants down his legs, Bucky hearing a rip or two and not giving a single shit. With his Alpha’s pants pushed down far enough, the heat of his thighs pouring onto Bucky’s own, Steve’s scent hits him like a ton of bricks, makes him moan low in the back of his throat, makes him bear his neck, overwhelmed with the urge to heel and submit. His legs part, Steve kisses a line up the column of Bucky’s throat, sweatpants pulled off one ankle but not the other.

Bucky wants Steve’s knot, wants him to fuck him full, wants his Alpha to make him cry and then lick up his tears. He wants this nest to smell like Steve too, of their shared experience and connection and scents. He wants it to be filthy and wants to bask in it, wants the world to know that he is Steve’s and Steve is his without a trace of doubt in their brain. He already knows he won’t want to wash the sheets when the week is over.

His Alpha’s teeth tearing over one nipple rips him from his head, his own thoughts, makes him cry out, reach to tug at Steve’s hair once more, bites at his chin and his jaw as soon as it’s tilted up. _“Alpha,_ Alpha please please, I need it, _need it_ ,” he whines, brings one hand down between their bodies and legs to wrap his fingers around—

“ _Oh fuck_ ,” Bucky whimpers, miraculously more impressed with Steve’s girth and size now that he was experiencing his true heat, strokes the fat cock in his hand, relishes in the feel of it. His Alpha is letting out noises he’s never heard before, uncontrolled and bitten off, laps hungrily at Bucky’s scent gland, nods his head when he feels Bucky begin to angle his grip on Steve’s cock, spreads his own legs.

“Yeah, you need it bad don’t you, sugar? Been waitin’ so long and been so patient, such a _good boy_ , gonna fuck my Omega silly, gonna give you everything you need.”

When the head of his Alpha’s cock rubs across his taint, his hole, his eyelids flutter, he lets out a little “ _Oh…_ ”, his grip and entire body going weak at the feeling. A hand smacks his own hand away from Steve’s cock and takes over, the other coming up to grip tight at the back of Bucky’s neck, to cradle his head. Steve isn’t even inside of him yet and the Omega is damn near deranged, hysterical and syrupy all at once, is repetitively whimpering variations of, “ _Need it, Alpha need your knot, need it, so empty._ ”

Their clothes are half-on, there’s no prep, and Bucky feels like the two of them are grinding and moving and rubbing together constantly, neither wanting to sit and take or give. The only thing that settles his Omega soul is the feeling of Steve’s Alpha cock slipping inside of his cunt with little resistance, just the tip. With a heave of a gasp, Bucky’s body melts, ceases its movements, Steve letting out his own shocked groan, both hands sliding up or around to cup the hinges of the Omega’s jaw, to tilt his face up.

Bucky’s never felt anything like this before in his life, knows nothing will ever compare. He’s being pressed so deeply into his soft nest, so tight against his Alpha’s body, the most perfect cock thick and heavy between his legs, sliding into his slick cunt. He wants to scream, wants to tell Steve he loves him, wants to moan in appreciation, but his mouth just hangs open, unable to make much of any noise and his Alpha holds him where he wants to. When his eyelids flutter shut, Steve sliding in a little more, his Alpha clicks his tongue, bumps his nose along Bucky’s.

“Eyes, baby eyes. Look at me, lemme see, _yeah_.”

When Steve slides home, _because that’s what the Omega is now_ , Bucky has the privilege of watching his Alpha’s own shared shock, shared pleasure, shared emotions. Bucky barely manages to keep his eyes open, moaning hot and low in the back of his throat, a noise that sounds like a pained one but only because he’s _feeling so much_ and needs some sort of outlet, to be vulnerable and let his Alpha know what he’s feeling. Steve doesn’t need words though, his own eyes half-lidded as he nods his head in agreement, holds Bucky tight, his lips brushing against Bucky’s when he breathes, “ _Oh fuck, baby_.”

His thighs are spread wide, feels a little like a slut and he loves it, and Steve—

_Steve feels devastatingly divine inside of him_.

He’s so full, fuller than he’s ever been in his life, feels his Alpha inside of his cunt with every frantic breath he takes and with every breath he can’t help but whimper. He’s never felt so satisfied, the Omega in him preening and panting and _sated_. This is everything he has waited for, in his life and in his relationship with Steve. Steve is perfect, the most perfect Alpha that Bucky could ever ask for, is _everything_ to Bucky, and the only thing that makes him realize he’s shedding tears is Steve’s lips on his cheeks.

“ _Oh, Buck…_ ”

“Alpha, _A-alpha_ feels so…feels _so fuckin’ good,_ so fuckin’ big. Move, _move please_ ,” Bucky wails, Steve pumping his hips slowly, more of a bump and grind instead of a thrust. Bucky’s hands scramble as if passing through syrup, run up the line of Steve’s shoulders before wrapping his arms tight around his Alpha’s neck, giving them both direct access to the other’s scent gland. He can feel his tears now, feel them against the skin of Steve’s neck, laps them up when he runs his tongue across Steve’s bearded jawline.

When Steve starts moving, Bucky is grateful he chose to hold onto the other man in such a way.

Bucky knew Steve was a passionate lover, but he was in no way prepared for his Alpha to fuck him with such abandon, to fuck him with such possessiveness and vigor. He’s grabbing at Bucky’s thighs, cupping them under the knees and pressing them back into his chest, all without breaking his rhythm or pulling back outside of reaching distance of Bucky’s lips. His thrusts are _brutal,_ as is Steve’s gaze when he pulls his head back, Bucky having never seen him look so feral and untamed.

All that untamed and chaotic energy is for him though, is his to take on as the Omega, and Bucky is more than willing to have that attention directed on him.

Bucky’s Alpha is a whisperer, always prefers to be close when they get intimate, and sex turns out to be no different. While his hips slap against the back of Bucky’s legs and his ass in this bent position, a jolt of movement that makes Bucky whine almost nonstop, Steve’s voice is calm and quiet and encouraging against his lips.

“ _Ohh_ , sugar knew this little cunt would make a perfect home for my Alpha cock, wish I could just live here, so _tight_ and so _wet_. Can’t wait to taste your sweet slick and my come mixed together. You gonna let me? Huh? Eat that pretty cunt out once you finally let my fat knot go? _Yeah,_ knew you would love that _._ ”

Bucky’s insides _sing,_ his body _thrums,_ his stretched-out hole so wet Bucky can hear the _squelch_ of Steve fucking him over his own hysterical noises and Steve’s whispered words. He can’t look away from Steve’s ocean eyes, he loves his Alpha’s eyes, and can’t manage a response to Steve’s questions with his own words, just pathetic noises and nods of his head. His Alpha’s cock is wrecking him so beautifully, full deep thrusts, makes him feel like an Omega is supposed to feel in heat, that combination of pain and pleasure, the tight grips and vicious thrusts and the way Steve’s cock slams into his sweet spot over and over and _over and overandover—_

He doesn’t even realize he is coming until a half-second before it happens, so keyed up, so cock-drunk, he can’t tell a difference between an orgasm and Steve fucking him. All he can do is scratch at Steve’s shoulders, his neck, and heave in a gasp and his eyes are rolling back, cunt _squeezing_ and _milking_ his Alpha’s cock, just like a good little Omega. He lets out a pitiful mewl, a few shouts that resemble Steve’s name, and he can’t stop his body from quivering against the line of his Alpha’s form, scrambling and letting his entire being drown in the feeling of such a powerful orgasm.

“ _Ohh fuck,_ look at that, so pretty, baby _oh_. Feels so good, feels so good havin’ my sweet little Omega come on my cock. So easy for me, sugar, yeah?”

Steve’s voice is pressed tight into his ear, Bucky having turned his head to the side, teeth digging sloppily into the meat of his Alpha’s shoulder. He can feel his own come sticky between their bodies, can feel it pool at the hollow of his neck, damn near shouts when Steve leans down to lap some of it into his mouth, _fuck._ Each breath is a heave of a noise, a sob, and Bucky feels more tears lazily roll down his cheek, down the side of his face. His Alpha’s hips slow to a deep and gutting roll, cunt so sensitive but his insides screaming for more, legs trembling where they rest on Steve’s shoulders.

And Steve doesn’t stop.

If anything, he becomes more focused on what he wants after having seen and experienced his Omega climaxing beneath and because of him. He nudges at Bucky’s nose with his own, encourages him to tilt his head back up to face him head-on, small coos and hums being shared between their lips. Steve’s noises are sweet, but his thrusts are harsh, aggressive, loud. _Perfect._

“ _God, Buck_ you’re so perfect. Look at you takin’ this cock like you weren’t made to, sugar, all for me.” Bucky nods his head.

“Uh-huh, all for you, S-Steve, all for you,” he slurs, eyelids feeling heavy, brain going a little fuzzy around the edges, feeling a little soft.

“Damn straight all mine, my Omega, Bucky— _mine._ ” Steve growls and Bucky’s toes curl, the back of his neck tingling. He will always be weak for the other man being a little possessive, of wanting others to know that he is Steve’s and only Steve’s, no one else. An obvious rush of possessiveness flows through his Alpha’s brain, his body, his movements, Steve’s hands moving to cup either side of Bucky’s jaw, holding him in place as he fucks into him.

“Gonna fill this messy fuckin’ cunt up, you want that, Omega? You want my knot, want me to pump you full’a my come?”

“ _Shit,_ Steve yes yes, _please_ , want it, _need it_!”

“Gonna claim you like no one else can, baby, no one else. You hear me? This is my sweet ass, this is my cunt, that’s my little cock—”

“ _Fuck,_ yeah yeah s’all yours, s’yours…”

“This is my belly to fill, my tits to squeeze, s’my neck and my mark and my bond. It’s all _mine_.”

Bucky sobs, hiccups, nods his head and looks back into Steve’s eyes and believes him, has known since the day he met Steve that this is where they’d end up. He’s known since they ran into each other on the stairs and shared that first look and exchange, has known since Steve protected him from that creepy stranger, since they spent that night out on the fire escape. The entire time he’s known Steve Rogers he has known that this was his Alpha, that this was his bondmate, that this was his other half.

He hears himself let out a frantic whine and then—

“ _Fuck, I love you so much, Steve oh my god_.”

There is a delayed reaction on Bucky’s part, a moment where his mind screeches to a halt, where his eyes turn to saucers and his breath gets caught in his throat. The words hang in the air between them and as they do Bucky can’t help but think momentarily that he has ruined everything, that he has rushed into things like he always does, prematurely expressing his feelings and scaring someone away. His feelings and this trauma are barely settled for two seconds before Steve is groaning, a lilt of a whine, eyes shining as he gazes down at his Omega, hips stuttering.

“ _Oh, Buck_ I love you too, love you so much, sugar. Wanna give you my knot, wanna—”

“Oh _yeah_ _yeah,_ wanna come on my Alpha’s knot, give it to me, _give it—_ ”

Thick fingers threaded through his hair and a tight yank back cut his words off with a whimper, teeth nipping at his exposed throat. Bucky only faintly realizes that it is exactly where his scent gland lies but on the opposite side of his neck. Steve’s thrusts are sloppy, harsh, chasing his own pleasure, pushing his Omega towards yet another orgasm. When Bucky feels the tight press of Steve’s knot on his cunt, the beg of a push along the rim, he sobs and Steve’s nips turn into his tongue laving over the marks before—

_“Oh fuck!_ ”

The Alpha bites down _hard_ on the sweaty and sensitive skin of Bucky’s neck, right below his ear, while at the same time pushing and forcing his knot passed the resistance of his opening, _into Bucky’s body_. Bucky screams, a noise he has never made during a sexual experience, is held there tight and for a purpose, for his big, strong, beautiful Alpha to use, to fill up, to claim. He feels his body somehow reach another level of pleasure, feels his cock shoot off and dribble against his stomach, feels his cunt _shake._

Steve’s teeth dig in a little more, he grunts in time with his thrusts, an animalistic noise, and pushes overwhelmingly deeper into Bucky’s cunt. Bucky _wails_ , thighs trembling, ass quivering, and Steve’s grunts turn into long drawn-out groans once he’s nestled in tight.

Bucky has never felt something so wonderful, so ethereal, so pleasurable. There is an edge of pain, impossible for there not to be with the size of Steve, but Bucky is filled with an incredibly crushing feeling of rightness. He’s bent in half, sweaty and shaking all over, fingers scratching and digging into the meat of Steve’s ass, pressing him in impossibly tighter. His vision goes a little hazy, probably because of the tears, and Steve’s moans turns into coos, into purrs, hips rolling and pressing in tight as if he can’t help it.

He knows he’s gasping, sobbing, whining into any skin he can get his lips on of his Alpha’s )his cheek, neck, lips, shoulder) but he has reached a point where his noises and movements are entirely uncontrollable. He can _feel_ Steve coming, can feel how warm it is making him _inside,_ wants it again and again and again, wants this to be his entire Omega purpose in this heady mindset.

“ _Alpha_ …”

“ _Ohh, baby_ yeah just takin’ it all like you’re meant to aren’t ya? Like you were made for me, _my Omega_.”

“Uh-huh, _yours_. So full, Steve, _so big_.”

“Yeah, sugar; _that’s all for you._ ”

Steve brings his hand down, cups Bucky’s ass and feels where they are connected, runs his fingers along the strained rim of the Omega’s sticky opening, feels it quiver and tremble and _take._ Steve touching _them,_ feeling where they are locked together, is his tipping point. Bucky is safe and has never felt more loved in his entire existence: his greedy Omega cunt is so very full of his Alpha’s cock, knot, and come, Steve is kissing and lapping at the marks that are forming on Bucky’s body because of his rough treatment, and sweet words are whispered and pressed into his sweaty skin.

So Bucky lets himself drift away.

***  
Bucky is warm. Warm and sated and more relaxed than he’s ever been in his life. He feels…soft. He feels soft and loved and a little sore, from the fucking and from his heat symptoms. He whines, wiggles his body and realizes he is wrapped up in large limbs, warm breath tickling his temple. He feels a little pang in his neck when he tilts his chin up before opening his eyes.

Bucky feels like his chest might combust from the rate his heart jumps up into his throat when his eyes lock onto ocean ones.

_“Mmm,_ there he is. Hey, sugar,” Steve greets him in a low murmur, one that has Bucky’s eyelids already fluttering closed again. He can’t help but bite his lip as his face breaks out into a grin, can’t help the short giggle that bursts through his lips either. Must be a reaction to his chest combusting.

“Hi,” Bucky breathes a little reverently, letting his eyes wander over Steve’s form as it hovers half-over him, the Alpha snuggled up against his side, propping his head up in his own large palm. Steve is so handsome, so beautiful, so big with all of these meaty and proportionate muscles. The sight of Steve’s chest alone makes Bucky’s dick twitch, his mouth water.

Steve sighs, hums, brings the arm that is resting on Bucky’s chest up to run his fingers down and around the side of the Omega’s face, letting his forefinger dip across Bucky’s bottom lip a little distractedly. Bucky wants to reach his tongue out and suck Steve’s finger into his mouth but before he can the older is replacing his finger with his mouth. The kiss lights Bucky up from the inside, syrupy-slow and sweet, deep and wet. He knows it would be a chaste kiss if they weren’t both in their respective heat and rut, but because of that, it is heated the second their lips meet.

On his heavy inhale Bucky gets a whiff of Steve’s scent, more powerful now that he has his Omega underneath him and happy and well-fucked, and it makes him whine, a pitiful lazy noise to follow along with the needy way he grabs at the Alpha’s chest. Steve will be the only person to ever do this to him, who will ever be able to get him so hot and riled up in a matter of mere seconds. He loves his Alpha.

Before things get _too_ heated Steve is pulling back, the tip of his tongue tracing along Bucky’s bottom lip in a tease of a move before he cups the Omega’s jaw and kisses him on the cheek a few times, nuzzling into it and letting out a purr of a noise.

“ _God,_ what are you doin’ to me, honey?”

Those few words could mean a plethora of different things, but Bucky understands them completely. How can I love someone after a few months of knowing them? How can I already want you to bond with me after such a short time? How can you make me want to spend the rest of my life with you when I’ve only known you a tiny sliver of my life? How did I manage to find you? How can I want to cherish and protect and provide and fight for you when I’ve just met you?

Bucky understands.

“You make me crazy,” Bucky breathes in response, all he can think to say in such a moment, and Steve smiles softly, leans down to graze his lips against Bucky’s forehead, his temple. It makes the Omega curl into the Alpha, turn into his broad chest, slither his arm low around his waist, and Steve takes it in stride, a natural and comforting gesture. Lips are still on his temple, soft and gentle, Bucky feeling like something precious under such treatment and it makes his insides tingle, the aching heat-fueled emptiness sliding back in a little.

“How are you feeling?” Steve whispers, curling the arm under Bucky’s head, tucking him in close to his neck where Bucky lips immediately part. He laps at the skin surrounding Steve’s scent gland slowly, trails over it directly in little kitten licks. It helps soothe his heat symptoms while simultaneously making him hot and achy all over. Bucky can feel himself grow slick between his cheeks, the sensation making his breathing pick up, the fingers of one hand coming up to grip at Steve’s pec.

“ _Great._ So good, I…I’ve never f-felt better.” Bucky barely recognizes his own breathless timid voice.

“S’good, baby. That makes me happy,” Steve murmurs into the top of Bucky’s head, rubbing his nose in the hair there. Bucky doesn’t need the Alpha to tell him it makes him happy; he can smell it in the air between them, in the skin of his neck. Steve’s happy scent is sweeter, like marshmallows toasted over a bonfire. It makes the back of Bucky’s neck tingle, makes his toes want to curl.

“That was…that was a lot for us,” Steve mentions as he rubs his hand soothingly down and up Bucky’s tender back. He takes a few seconds to ponder that, about how heavy and emotional their intimacy was and how serious of a moment that was for the two of them together.

“Yeah…yeah it was, wasn’t it? Been waiting for that for a while.”

“Mhmm. Been waiting for this moment way longer than the time I’ve known you. Would’a waited a decade or two or three just for you, Buck. Been waitin’ my whole life for you I think.”

Bucky whimpers, _actually whimpers_ , at Steve’s words, nuzzles into his neck a little more, feels his face get hot and flushed.

“I’m serious, Buck. I love you. Do you…do you not—”

“Of course I remember,” Bucky interjects immediately, pulling his head back to look up at Steve, fingers digging into the hinge of the Alpha’s jaw, “H-how could I forget? I love you too, Alpha.” It was a hefty three words when he said it in the middle of Steve knotting him and it’s hefty now as they lay here in the afterglow. It feels more like a blanket though, covering them in warmth, keeping them safe, tucking them in. This is the foundation of something, of their lives and relationship, but it is a positive sense of heft, nothing to be taken lightly.

Steve grabs at Bucky’s hand resting on his chest, brings it up to his lips and kisses the palm, a few fingers, the back of it, all with a few heavy exhales.

“You hungry? We should eat,” Steve asks him, a new energy to their conversation, tucking the feelings and emotions just shared in their back pockets, there but not of focus, underlying. Bucky hums.

“What time is it?”

Steve glances over his shoulder and whistles. “Almost 4.”

“Oh shit,” Bucky chuckles, rolling onto his back and stretching, sheets sliding off his body in his movement. Steve’s eyes are dark, have been since he almost broke Bucky’s door down, dark ocean waters. Bucky trusts them. He can’t help but bite his lip, arch his back a little, preen under such a heavy Alpha gaze. It takes two seconds for Steve to let out a rumble and crawl over Bucky’s body, _home_ , to slip an arm under the arch in his back and hold him close. The possessive look, noise, and movement makes Bucky preen, makes him whine as Steve mouths at his collarbones, cock nudging against Bucky’s thigh.

Steve’s lips don’t stay stagnant, slipping up his neck, nipping at his scent gland brazenly like it’s his, sliding messily to the hinge of his jaw. Bucky finds himself running his hands up Steve’s back because he can and because he wants to, up into Steve’s hair. He accidentally tugs on the strands in his rushed movement but when his Alpha growls a little, a pleased noise, Bucky yanks a little harder.

“ _Mmm_ , baby we gotta eat, gotta take care’a you, keep your strength up, ” Steve mumbles into his neck, unable to pull away from Bucky’s scent gland and it makes the Omega grin, makes him hold onto Steve a little tighter, makes him let out a high and feminine noise that gets a little caught in the back of his throat. The amount of joy and pleasure he is getting from Steve fighting his instincts and wanting Bucky so much is almost too much for him to handle.

“M’hungry for somethin’ else, _Alpha_ …”

“ _Oh,_ you little minx. I’ll give ya what you need, sugar,” Steve chuckles with a nip to Bucky’s chin, rolling his cock into the crease of Bucky’s hip yet again, makes him whimper some at the reminder of how ready and how big his Alpha is, “Right after we eat.” Bucky doesn’t even get a chance to let out the pitiful pup whine he wants to before Steve is scooping him up in his arms and turning towards the hallway, making his way to Bucky’s kitchen.

They’re both naked as the day they were born, the sheet that had been wrapped around Bucky’s torso trailing with them through the apartment for a few good strides before falling to the floor. The Omega can’t help but giggle again ( _Bucky has never giggled this much in his life_ ), nuzzle into the side of Steve’s neck, his shoulder, nip at the meat there. Being held and carried and doted on and fucked within an inch of his life is turning Bucky into even more of a softie than he normally is.

He loves his Alpha.

He loves how his Alpha sets him gently on the counter before turning to the fridge. He loves the image Steve makes standing in front of Bucky’s open fridge contemplating his options, one hand holding the door open, the other on his hip. He loves how natural this feels, like everything else has felt since the day he met the Alpha, that this feels like _their_ nest, _their_ home, _their_ life. This is Steve providing for Bucky, his Alpha instincts kicking in yet again, natural, as if Bucky has been a part of his life this entire time.

It makes Bucky achy all over, makes him worried he’s going to make a mess on the counter, makes him hard and makes his eyelids heavy.

“Look at you, Buck, stockin’ up and bein’ so prepared for us. That’s good, baby,” Steve comments off-handedly, doesn’t even look over at Bucky when he says it and _oh,_ it makes the base of his neck tingle to hear his Alpha praising him in such a way. He hums in response, locks his arms against the countertop so he won’t fall to the floor, watches his Alpha scour for food for him. 

Steve returns to him with his hands full, much to Bucky’s delight. They haven’t eaten anything all day, sleeping and fucking and loving it away, and he’s famished. There’s cheese, grapes, cherry tomatoes, and pieces of chicken Bucky had prepped for a dinner a few nights ago. Bucky’s mouth waters as he watches his Alpha open and prepare the food, cutting the cheese into cubes, washing the grapes and tomatoes, putting everything onto the cutting board he finds on the counter.

Bucky goes to grab for a grape when Steve snatches at his hand, holds it as he picks up a grape in his other hand, eyes locking onto Bucky’s. The Alpha takes a few sideways steps, situates himself to stand between Bucky’s thighs and their closeness makes the Omega’s brain go a little fuzzy, makes him look up at Steve with droopy eyelids. He can feel his Alpha’s cock slap against his knee a few times as Steve adjusts and he can’t help but whine, wants that cock inside of him. Steve shushes him.

“ _Hush,_ sugar. Open,” he murmurs, voice like a lullaby and Bucky listens immediately, mouth dropping open, and his Alpha brings his hand up to place the grape in his mouth. His eyes don’t leave Bucky’s when he taps his chin, indicating he should chew, and they don’t leave Bucky’s when he swallows the morsel of food. Steve is there with another grape and when he holds it up to Bucky’s lips, the brunette opens enough for Steve to slip it between his teeth.

“ _S’my boy,”_ Steve coos before popping a few pieces of cheese in his own mouth, letting Bucky take his time and chew his food. He preens, grins like a goon, blushes and brings his hands out in front of him to grip onto the Alpha’s sides, wanting to touch and be close as much as possible. He’s never been fed by another person, another Alpha, the ownership and dominance making Bucky feel hot on his lower back, his insides, makes him smell his own growing arousal.

The next few minutes are innocent enough, some chicken ( _“Need your protein, bud…”_ ) and some cheese, Steve standing inches from Bucky, feeding the Omega and himself. He makes Bucky drink two glasses of water, is patient and waits, rubs circles on Bucky’s thighs and hips. It’s only a matter of time, of a slip of self-control, that the air between them crackles, that the energy changes.

Maybe it’s Bucky’s obvious and ignored arousal, maybe it’s a spike in their cycles, maybe it’s just how hot they are for each other, but ten minutes into Steve feeding them both and Bucky is panting. He’s making soft noises every time he opens his mouth, is licking and nipping at Steve’s fingers more than he should be, curling his legs around the back of Steve’s thighs. And Steve stands there, strong like steel, eyes focused and dark, only giveaway being his shaking hand as he raises it and lowers it from Bucky’s mouth.

Another ten minutes later, Steve insisting they keep eating with a low growl, and Bucky feels like he is going to vibrate right off the counter he sits on. His hands haven’t left Steve’s sides, the Alpha’s skin like fire beneath his fingertips, and he can feel the beginnings of a slick mess beneath his bottom. In any other state he’d be mortified, but in this heat-riddled one he can only hope it’s the one thing that will make Steve break and give him his knot.

Steve pushes the last cherry tomato between Bucky’s lips with a downright filthy moan on the Omega’s part, his thick finger sliding messily against Bucky’s tongue, his bottom teeth, just because. Steve is pressed so close against Bucky, almost too close for comfort considering Bucky is eating, but the Alpha has started making warm rumbly noises in response, in tandem with Bucky, that make the Omega even more soft. Bucky chews, swallows, makes a pitiful noise and grabs at Steve’s chest and neck with two hands.

“You full, Omega? You feel good?” Steve asks into his lips as he lets Bucky grapple for him, an impressive amount of self-control being shown by the Alpha. Bucky turns and wheezes into Steve’s neck when he feels large palms slide up his back, down again, a hand going tight on the back of his neck. _Oh._

“ _Buck_ , calm down, sugar,” Steve whispers as he squeezes his fingers on his nape, _tight,_ Bucky going lax into the crook of Steve’s neck damn near instantly with a whimper. “Asked you a question,” Steve reminds Bucky after a few seconds, voice heavy in his ear, “You full, Omega?” This time Bucky responds, nods his head and whispers a soft, “ _Yes, Alpha_ ,” into the meat of Steve’s shoulder, the Alpha’s hands running back down his back with a purr of a noise. He wants to be full of something else.

“That’s good, Bucky real good. Because I’ve about used all the self-control I got left.”

_Oh,_ thank fuck. Bucky is almost certain the next steps in his desperation would have been tears and he hasn’t cried this much in a long time, wants to avoid it as much as possible. Bucky nods his head as he whimpers, wraps his thighs tight around Steve’s narrow waist as his hands come up between their bodies to cup the sides of the Alpha’s neck.

“ _I want dessert now_.”

“D-dessert?”

Steve’s grabby hands run back down Bucky’s back but this time they don’t stop, move right down to cup and squeeze at his ass and Bucky can’t help but whine high in the back of his throat at the feeling. His mouth opens, his teeth press into the hinge of Steve’s jaw, _so close to his scent gland,_ and his mouth waters at the feel and the heaviness of his Alpha’s cock on his thigh, the crease of his hip.

“A’course, baby. You’ve been leakin’ all over this counter. You think your Alpha hasn’t noticed?” Steve’s voice has an edge to it, a possessive Alpha edge that has Bucky wanting to heel and yield to him, which he does when his Alpha starts to pull back and untangle himself. He whines, a pitiful noise, but lets Steve push him, lets Steve press a hand on his chest and push. He whimpers in question when he finds himself on his back on the counter, propped up on his elbows, shudders when Steve’s large hands swipe up his thighs to cup the crease of his hips.

“Gonna get addicted to the way you smell, the way you taste, baby,” Steve’s words are somehow both rough and gentle, pressed into the skin of his chest, his belly, his hip like a promise, one that Bucky will go to the grave believing. “Already know it and I’m not gonna do a damn thing to stop it from happenin’.” By the time Steve’s finished his words, he is eye-level with Bucky’s angry cock, coos when he sees it, swipes his tongue from the base to the tip. Bucky goes cross-eyed when Steve’s pretty lips wrap tight around the tip, slurps at it some before lifting Bucky by the thighs, sliding him back onto the island some more.

“Gonna get my dessert, gonna get my mouth on this leakin’ cunt. How many times you think you can come from my mouth, huh? Twice? Three times? I don’t know, Buck—you’re gaggin’ for it.”

Steve is right, always right. Bucky can’t get a decent breath in, feels like he’s ran a marathon and he hasn’t even felt Steve’s mouth on his cunt, hasn’t been take apart and put together again. He knows Steve is going to make him come and leak like a faucet, knows his Omega instincts and the side effects of his heat will listen and yield to his Alpha. If Steve wants him to come, he’s going to come.

The Alpha throws Bucky’s thighs over his broad-ass shoulders, leans down and over Bucky, mouth at his ass, nose at his ass and the Omega can’t help but whine a little, breathy and loose, feels a little exposed and vulnerable. His back, his head, hit the cold countertop as he falls onto it with a huff and Steve lets out a deep and pleased rumble, an Alpha noise if Bucky has ever heard one. It’s a noise that has Bucky whimpering out, “ _Alpha,”_ for no particular reason and Steve is there to respond, to lav over his sensitive hole with the flat of his tongue a few times, letting out a gruff, “ _Mmm, Omega.”_

Steve has eaten Bucky out before, plenty of times, apparently one of his Alpha’s favorite things to do, but he’s never done it while Bucky was in heat. He’s never done it while Bucky was sensitive and hot all over and aching for any kind of touch. A moan tears out of Bucky’s throat when he closes his eyes and _feels,_ feels Steve’s hands possessively tight on the crease of his hips, feels his lips and tongue work and slide and swirl like fucking magic on his slippery cunt. He moans, should be embarrassed about how messy he is between his legs, but Steve is making deep noises, _is moaning_ , into Bucky’s hole, his skin.

“ _Fuck, sugar_ ain’t nothin’ better than this sweet Omega cunt. Gonna be hungry for this slick and this tight ass for the rest’a my days, swear to god.”

Bucky couldn’t formulate words if he tried, gut hot and tight as Steve spreads Bucky’s lithe thighs, tilts his ass back some more as he moans low and open-mouthed as his tongue works the Omega over, muscle fluttering. Steve makes Bucky feel so good, his Alpha making him want to come almost immediately, and it’s embarrassing, how easy he is. Steve’s mouth has been on him for two minutes and he’s fighting his orgasm off, gripping the edge of the counter, biting his lip so hard he’s worried he’s going to make himself bleed.

Steve’s tongue presses against his rim, hooks a little bit, his lips kissing and slurping around it and on any skin he can reach and Bucky’s noise sound painful when lets it out, a little wail. Steve’s _purring,_ warm Alpha rumbles at tasting his Omega, at tasting Bucky and making him feel good, but it’s easy to tell Bucky is holding back, isn’t happy with himself. The Alpha doesn’t even lift his mouth to speak, growls his words out onto the skin of Bucky’s taint when he says them.

“Don’t hold back on me, Omega. You gimme what’s mine, you hear me? _Bucky?_ ” and it’s like he isn’t in control of his body whatsoever, like he’s watching and experiencing this situation from above, outside of his body. He can’t breathe, is opening his mouth but _can’t get a fucking breath_ , and just like that, all because his Alpha said so, he’s coming. _He is coming_. His thighs press into the sides of Steve’s face, his facial hair digging into the inside of his legs, and his entire form quivers under the force of his climax.

Bucky finally makes a noise, a hiccup of a wail, when Steve’s hands rush up to pinch at his nipples, rolling _both_ nubs in _both_ hands, mouth _still_ moving and working. His noises are long and drawn out, uncontrollable and damn near hysterical, and his cock spurts and dribbles, hot come sliding down his sides, pooling at his navel.

“That’s it, sugar look at that. So pretty, Buck. You gonna gimme another? Huh? How about if I feed this hungry cunt, give it some fingers?”

Even with his cock still twitching, still drooling, he’s letting out a hiss of an answer, a long and drawn out, “ _Yessss,”_ as his head lolls back and forth a few times. He can’t help it, can’t help his body’s reaction when it reacts physically to his Alpha’s words, a twinge in his back and shoulder, cunt hot and achy and _empty_. He finds his hands in Steve’s hair, movement grounding, and when he rolls his hips up into the Alpha’s mouth a moan hits his ears that is guttural and pleased and amused.

In the next instant a finger slides easily into Bucky’s opening, slick and a little loose from his orgasm, and Steve pumps it a few times before sliding a second one in alongside the first. He whines, tugs on Steve’s hair on instinct, in the bite of the resistance his cunt puts up at the Alpha’s thick fingers. The noises and the hair tugging only spur Steve on, pumping and angling his fingers, tongue lapping where it can, moving up to lick at Bucky’s balls. There is a shift, emotions and instinct and naturalness taking over, and Bucky can’t stop moving, can’t stop making sweet little noises, grunt and whimpers.

Steve is fucking his fingers into Bucky’s cunt with vigor, adding a third, pushing Bucky a little more than normal, but it’s _bliss_. He wants to feel full, needs to feel full, is gagging for it just like his Alpha had said. Steve’s fingers satiate his inner Omega but it isn’t enough, already greedy, can hear how wet and messy he is and he wants to be used for what he is. He wants his Alpha’s knot, wants his slick to be used for it’s purpose.

When Steve finds Bucky’s sweet spot he can’t help but _growl_ , a noise his Alpha tends to make, can’t help but tug on the sun-kissed hair in his hands through the moan that followed. He yips and squeals when Steve jams his fingers in tight, nips hard at the inside of his thigh, growls in warning and _oh_ the show of power, of their roles in this situation, makes Bucky go boneless with a whimper.

Almost as soon as he goes boneless, he feels the stirrings of an orgasm in his core, the throb of Steve’s bite startlingly pushing him closer to the edge. He whines, sobs, repeats the word “ _Alpha_ ” like a fucking prayer right up to the point of his second release, Steve grabbing onto his cock and milking it out of him, fingers still working and stroking his sweet spot.

“ _God,_ would drink this all down but I want you so messy, honey. Want you reekin’ of me and want everyone to know that I’m yours,” Steve whispers into his mouth, leaning over Bucky and pressing his torso right into the mess on his stomach. It makes him moan, another deep and desperate noise, makes him lick at Steve’s mouth, run his tongue along Steve’s lips. He can _taste himself_ on Alpha’s mouth, makes him a little feral.

He goes with his instincts, moves without thought and swipes his hand along his side, the only skin he can reach that has his come on it, bring his fingers up to Steve’s neck. The Alpha is sucking on his tongue when he wipes his own come right along the side of Steve’s neck, even brings it up to smear and rub some into his cheek.

He’s never heard a noise like this leave Steve’s mouth, caught somewhere between a rumble and a whimper, a snarl and a curse. He’s never heard anything like it, but he doesn’t have a chance to think, is yanked from his place on the counter dizzyingly fast. His Alpha drags him to the floor, right there in the kitchen, grasps Bucky’s wrist and sucks his still-sticky fingers into his mouth, _sucks the rest of the come off of the digits._ Bucky moans, kisses at the corner of Steve’s lips even as they’re wrapped around his fingers, grinds hard in his Alpha’s lap.

“Wan’you to ride me, _oh god_. Omega, ride me, _m’beggin’ you_ ,” Steve breathes into Bucky’s mouth, arm tight around his back, holding him close and Bucky is nodding, _fuck yes_ , wants that. “ _Yeah,_ yeah lemme—” Bucky starts and then Steve is leaning back against the fridge a little, tugging Bucky with him, tucking his face into the Omega’s neck, sucking at his scent gland. It is pure chaos and need, Bucky feeling like he can’t form one single coherent thought except for _Alpha Alpha Alpha_ , both of them reaching for Steve’s cock as he lifts up.

When he sits down, when Steve’s cock slides home for the second time ever, it’s like he is a believer and is ascending to heaven. He feels like crying again, wants to promise Steve that he’s not this emotional in his normal headspace, but he can’t get the words out, let alone heave in an adequate breath. He’s trying though, gasping into Steve’s open mouth as his Alpha holds his head, his neck, in both of his hands. Steve is everything he wants, feels so fucking good inside of him and Bucky brings his hands up to grasp onto Steve’s wrists.

“ _Fuuuck_ , oh my god. _Alpha_ I—”

“Yeah, baby _yeah_ , fuckin’ made for me, come on.”

Bucky believes it, believes it with his entire being. Steve is his, has been his entire life, was meant to find him, has gone through everything he has in his life to get to Bucky. He has never believed in soulmates, soul bonds, thought they were made up entirely because nothing could be that good, that perfect. This is making him be a believer.

Bucky’s cunt accommodates so incredibly well for Steve, his slick welcoming and soaking his cock, already coating the Alpha’s thighs, the rest of Bucky’s ass. Bucky feels like Steve’s dick is up in his throat, is the reason he can’t get a good breath, but he’s gasping when he starts to roll his hips, body taking over his mind entirely. Steve won’t let him go, one of the hands holding his face scrambling down to wrap tight around his lower back, his waist. It should make it harder for Bucky to move, for him to roll and bounce and fuck, but it only spurs him on, drawing from the intimacy and connection.

“ _God_ you feel so good, sugar, takin’ me so well _fuck,_ you take your Alpha so well.”

Bucky has passed the point of words, too much thinking and coordination involved that he simply can’t handle at this current moment. All he can do is nod his head and whine, bounce a little harder, fuck himself down on his Alpha’s cock. His own hands reach for anything and end up gripping onto Steve’s face, his head, his hair, pull him in for a messy kiss that ends up being almost entirely tongue. He needs more balance and leverage, makes a frantic and frustrated noise as he reaches up to grip the fridge handle above him, moving to squat and then can—

“Jesus _fucking_ Christ, Bucky _yes_ —fuck me.”

This new position makes him shout, sob, at the feeling of being fucked so open with such raw emotions between the two of them, makes him choke on another breath. Steve’s hands move to his hips, his sides, holds onto Bucky as he moves, and Bucky’s own hands end up wrapped up in golden hair again. The new position makes Steve’s fat cock hit dead-on to Bucky’s swollen sweet spot, makes tears well up in his eyes, but Bucky will be damned if he doesn’t keep up his pace.

One particularly pointed thrust has Bucky’s vision going hazy, has him squealing out a noise, stuttering and scrambling at how sensitive he is but Steve is there. Steve is there to grip his sides tighter, to hold him close, to begin to help to lift and drop Bucky on his cock and it’s—

“Steve, _A-Alpha…_ oh Alpha please, I—”

“Sugar, doin’ so good for me, so good, _Omega_. Come on, Buck. You gonna fuck yourself onto my knot, pretty? Yeah? _God_ , you’re so perfect.”

At the mention of Steve’s knot, Bucky lets one of those uncontrollable growls out, the ones that he hasn’t heard himself make before, and he finds what little energy he has left and uses it. His bounces and movements are _harsh_ , makes him sure that the neighbors all around them can hear their sound of skin slapping skin without strain. His muscles burn, legs ache, but Steve’s cock feels so good slipping in and out of his cunt, digging into his sweet spot, and he feels the unmistakable stirrings in his gut for the third time that night.

Of course his Alpha can tell.

“ _Yeah,_ there it is. You gonna take it? Huh? Come on, sugar _take it_ —take what’s yours,” Steve whispers, hands moving under Bucky’s ass to help him move and bounce and this time when Bucky sobs, hiccups, the tears finally spill over, overwhelmed in every sense of the word. He is overwhelmed by how much he loves Steve, by how good it feels to be fucked by him, by how sweet and loving and filthy he is, but the thing that Bucky can’t wrap his head around is how Steve doesn’t abide by the social norms.

An Omega being the one in charge, being the one doing the fucking, is unprecedented. Bucky knows his role, knows what people expect from him, but not his Steve. His Alpha lets Bucky have autonomy and independence and power. His Alpha lets him be on top, lets him take control, _wants it,_ supports it, begs for it. Bucky—

“ _Ohh_ , I love you, I love you so much, love you—”

“Come on, gimme it, lemme have it, love you, baby love—”

It takes two more thrusts for Bucky to feel the strains on his rim, to feel Steve’s swollen knot, and he’s drooling for it, gagging for it. He knows his body can take it, knows his cunt is more than ready, but there’s a moment’s hesitation where he thinks there is no way Steve’s fat and hefty knot can find a home inside of Bucky. But his Alpha is perfect, his Alpha knows Bucky so well, moves his hands up to Bucky’s hips and pushes him down on each drop, helps Bucky impale himself on his Alpha’s cock.

Three bounces later and Bucky hears his own scream hit his ears before he realizes that he’s the one who let it out. He’s grunting and coming and pressing his lips and face into Steve’s neck, sucking at his Alpha’s scent gland, and _holy fuck_ it’s so good, Steve is making him come again for the third time and _it feels so good._ What’s even better is his Alpha coming. His groans are so low and Bucky can _feel_ them in Steve’s chest, in his throat, and his hands are so tight on his hips it makes Bucky whimper a little. He rolls and pushes Bucky’s body, his hips, as he wishes, using the Omega to prolong his own pleasure.

“ _Fucking hell_ , Buck so fuckin’ tight for me, _shit._ S’it feel good, baby? That knot feel good?”

“Feels s-so fuckin’ good, Steve, so fuckin’ g-good in my little…my little wet cunt,” Bucky whimpers in Steve’s ear, runs his tongue along the shell of it messily, and Steve bites out another curse, Bucky going lightheaded when he feels another round of hot come coat his walls and fill him up, feels Steve’s perfect fucking cock dig into his sweet spot. It a heady thought, he wishes Steve had come _on_ Bucky, on his chest and his ass and his face, his cock. He wants to be messy with Steve’s come, wants to rub it into his skin, never wants to bathe it off so the entire world knows who he belongs to.

Bucky doesn’t realize he’s trembling until Steve’s hands run down his thighs, whispers for him to relax before he moves to stand. Bucky whines pitifully, doesn’t move a single muscle and is entirely deadweight in his Alpha’s arms, is so full. Steve’s lips are on his temple as they move, a comforting and sweet gesture, hushing him with a few coos and purrs, telling him they’ll be comfier in bed. Bucky doesn’t disagree with that.

When Steve goes to lay down with Bucky, their connection, his knot, shifts and moves inside of him, makes him rise from his damn near immediate slumber and moan, wrap his legs tight around Steve’s narrow waist. Bucky purrs when his Alpha moans hot and low, presses the Omega into the bed beneath him, murmurs, “ _Omega…_ ” and he’s never heard anything better.

_“Wan’more_ , want more, Alpha,” Bucky mumbles, rolls and squirms underneath his Alpha’s grip, his body, clenches down repeatedly around Steve’s cock so hard he swears he can hear the squelch of his slick as he does so. Steve groans out a chuckle in disbelief into Bucky’s shoulder, rolls his own hips and humps the younger into the mattress and then his Alpha is biting out, “ _God,_ so greedy. You want more, it’s yours, Buck _holy shit.”_

Bucky can’t help but giggle and rub his lips and cheek into Steve’s scent gland, that happy sweet fireside smell intoxicating. Feeling Steve fill him up even more, his little Omega cunt, makes him sigh dreamily, in pure happiness, makes his eyelids heavy. And if Bucky falls asleep while kissing at Steve’s lips he knows that his Alpha will forgive him because his Alpha loves him.

Bucky loves his Alpha.

***   
The week carries on as it normally does when Bucky is in heat. He is moody and grumpy, achy all over with cramps and sore muscles, has a much heavier appetite than normal, wants to rub on everything and stuff himself full and fuck _constantly._ It is nothing out of the ordinary but what is most definitely out of the ordinary is having each of those needs met in such a thorough and satisfying way by none other than his own Alpha.

Bucky’s never had an Alpha. He’s _been_ with Alphas and spent his heat with one of them but two days into his heat and Bucky can’t even remember what that guy’s name was. Bucky isn’t but an arms-length away from Steve at any given time, always within reach for not only his own neediness but also Steve’s. He keeps forgetting that Steve is in rut too, right alongside Bucky in his own heat, but that’s only because their desires and peaks and dips are in sync somehow.

When Bucky is hungry, Steve’s stomach will grumble. When Bucky gets feisty and temperamental, Steve is calm and level-headed. When Bucky wants to fuck, Steve is already spreading the Omega’s legs.

Bucky’s never had someone in his life that so naturally fits into his own, fits into his mind and his body and his existence. He has the panic-stricken thought that wakes him up from his sleep one night that he’s found his bondmate and it was such a shock of a realization to have outside of Steve knotting him. Even in his sleep Steve had sensed Bucky’s heightened emotions, had yanked Bucky in tight by the waist, kissed at his gland before pulling Bucky’s face into his neck, his gland.

Bucky isn’t used to such bliss.

He isn’t used to someone feeding him his every bite for every meal, rolls his eyes but blushes at how important it is to the Alpha, to provide. Bucky is almost worried that he will grow to find food arousing after this week because after almost every meal he finds himself swept up into thick arms and pressed against some sort of surface and fucked with fingers or a tongue or Steve’s incredibly thick cock. He’ll have to test his theory out that Steve may have a food kink after the week is over but until then he lets himself enjoy such pampering.

He also isn’t used to the bliss that is having sex with Steve Rogers. Bucky swears that each experience is better than the last, especially now that Steve has the opportunity of endless amounts of time to _learn_ Bucky, learn how to break him down and how to mend him back together again. Steve comes to recognize that Bucky has different scents for different desires or moods, different looks and body language that mean the Omega wants different things. Bucky can get one second of a noise out and the pitch of that noise is what determines Steve’s immediate move.

If Bucky has droopy eyes, a small smirk, and purrs out a throaty noise Steve has learned to give it to him long and slow. He’ll grab for Bucky, pull the smaller underneath him, press inside, and roll and grind his hips in such a slow movement that it feels like the Alpha is fucking one long orgasm out of Bucky.

If Bucky is breathing a little heavy, smells sticky sweet, and can barely whine Steve’s name out, the Alpha knows to grab for his Omega immediately and take him from behind. He’ll grip a little tight, push a little harder, shove Bucky’s face into the bed and fuck into him a little mean, devastatingly deep.

Sometimes Bucky finds that his wants and urges are drawn from the scent Steve lets off, the looks he gives Bucky. He knows that when Steve smells more like an ocean and less like his piney-natural scent, when his voice is low and slow like a hum, he wants Bucky’s mouth. And when Bucky gets a whiff of that scent his mouth will start to water, and he’ll look over his Alpha and he’s already crawling towards him. One simple, _“What’ya doin’, Omega”_ in that tone and he knows he’s doing the right thing.

Steve has given him everything he could ever want, sometimes gracing him with it before the thought or urge ever crosses Bucky’s mind, but there’s one thing Bucky finds out he won’t give him.

***

Bucky finds himself roused from sleep one night, he thinks the day they are leaning into is Thursday, but he isn’t sure. He is hot all over, sweat on his neck and on his lower back, and his eyes are open for maybe two seconds before he’s whining pitifully, high and feminine, immediately feeling subservient.

_Alpha._

_His Alpha is—_

A low growl from behind him and a burly arm tight around his waist coupled together have his mind running blank and his instincts kicking in. He inhales heavily, sucks in the scent of the air around him, _his Alpha’s smell intoxicating,_ and it all makes his limbs turn to rubber, makes him tilt his head to the side.

His Alpha has hit the peak of his rut.

Bucky’s chest tightens when he feels Steve’s nose press stiff against his neck, his gland, when his ears take in the low rumble that follows. Bucky and every other Omega have been told all their life, learned in class after class, too many stories on the news to prove his parents’ point, that Alphas in rut are not to be messed with. Steve’s grip is tighter than normal, tight around his waist and tight around his neck where his other arm rests, an arm he hadn’t even noticed up to that point.

Bucky panics a little, experiences the internal struggle of the all-avoided, “ _How well do you actually know this man?”_ , but when he squeezes his eyes shut and takes a few grounding breaths, ones that he finds incredibly soothing because of _his Alpha’s_ scent, it eases his every little doubt or worry. When Steve rolls his body into Bucky’s smaller frame, lets out a pleased hum, laps at the Omega’s presented scent gland, Bucky breathes out the last of his anxieties.

This is his Alpha, his Stevie. He may be acting a little more territorial, a little more rough and a little less level-headed, but Bucky trusts him, natural Omega instincts set aside. Steve would never hurt him. Steve loves him, has shown him so over the past week, has cherished and protected and provided for Bucky. He would never do anything to harm his Omega.

“ _Alpha,”_ he whines, voice a little rough and foggy with sleep as he brings a hand up to cover the larger one that’s cupping his chin, his neck, tilting it up. The Alpha is passed the point of words it seems, is only able to let out a rumble that Bucky can feel more than he can hear. He can’t seem to stop moving, stop rutting and rubbing against Bucky, mouthing at his scent gland, flicking his tongue across it and kissing at the sensitive skin there. The possessive hold and the attention to his gland is making Bucky slicker by the second, making his own cyclical symptoms ramp up.

He is far too empty for his liking.

“ _Steve,_ ” he tries again, presses back into the hard line of his Alpha’s body but a low noise stops him in his tracks, makes his legs tremble, makes his gut turn.

“ _Mine,_ ” is all Steve says, low and dark but sweet like honey, pulls Bucky’s waist in tighter to better roll and press his cock into the curve of Bucky’s ass. The tone of his voice and the way it is whispered into his ear makes Bucky want to spread his legs, makes him want to present and show his Alpha his slick and waiting cunt. Bucky wants to be full, hurts all over from it, lower back spasming and thighs trembling, but what he wants most is for his Alpha to use him to his liking.

He wants to be claimed.

“ _Alpha,_ yours, all yours, want you to take what’s yours. Please, Steve.” Bucky tries to wiggle his bottom as he speaks, _begs,_ voice strained with the angle the Alpha has his head tilted back in. He attempts to do what he can to move and push Steve’s cock towards his hole, rolls his hips some, whimpers when the other man lets out a low snarl, hand coming down to grip Bucky’s hip rather painfully.

“Don’t beg, Omega. I’ll give you everything you need,” Steve breathes into his ear, runs his lips along the side of Bucky’s face as he speaks, and _fuck_ if that isn’t the truth. It feels so natural to want to beg, to whisper his desperation out into the air between them, to let his Alpha know that he’s hurting for him. But Bucky isn’t used to someone knowing him better than he knows himself, isn’t used to being so provided for and so cherished. He isn’t used to being so loved.

All he can say in response is Steve’s name, says it like a prayer, _like an omen,_ breathes it out with his next exhale and when Steve reaches down and pulls his hips back some, he’s more than ready to feel his Alpha take claim.

Steve has never fucked Bucky like this before, has never moved his body with such a thorough motion, has never made every single thrust and grab and press and push feel like it’s taking Bucky’s _existence_ apart. Maybe it’s Steve being in peak rut, maybe it’s Bucky coming off of his heat, maybe it’s Steve having learned and studied everything Bucky is made up of. Whatever it is, it has the Omega quivering against his Alpha’s body, has his mind going a little fuzzy around the edges, has all of his little noises getting caught in his throat.

Steve rumbles, holds Bucky _everywhere_ , thick arm under his neck, his other arm coming down and around to curl around the crook of Bucky’s knee, holding his thigh up to better fuck into his Omega. Bucky can’t help but be so thankful he goes to yoga, hiccups a little when Steve’s arm curls around the column of his neck, thick Alpha cock digging into his sweet spot in a delicious drag.

“So wet for me, Omega, you feel that? Feel how ready you were for me before you were even awake? _Fuck_ , so wet and warm all for me, _all for me_.”

Steve is not passed the point of words it seems, is still able to take Bucky apart by his filthy fucking thoughts, and Bucky has no choice but to let the gutted noise he wants to let out, out. His tongue is thick in his mouth, can’t get any sort of syllable out in response, but that seems to please Steve, please his Alpha, that he is past the point of words, a little delirious. He fucks into Bucky with a little more vigor, _how,_ and he has no choice but to go limp in Steve’s grip and _take it_ , take everything he’s being given.

Steve takes notice, feels Bucky go boneless, feels him give himself over to the Alpha, and he lets out the most pleased rumble to date, a noise that makes Bucky’s face break out into a blissed-out grin.

“ _Fuck,_ Omega look at that, look how good you look getting’ fucked stupid by your Alpha, baby. _God,_ I love you.” Steve’s words only spur on Bucky’s grin, make his cunt clench down on and tremble around his Alpha’s cock, _so greedy._ Steve’s thrusts are absolutely gutting, makes Bucky grow concerned he’s reached the point of climax without having even noticed, because he feels _so fucking good_. He can feel his own cock leaking against his stomach, rubbing against the sheets and making them sticky, but he doesn’t even care about his own dick, doesn’t care about his own release.

He wants to be a good Omega.

Bucky wants to be the perfect Omega for Steve, wants him to be used for Steve’s pleasure over and over _and over_ again, wants to be filled up, wants to be damn near bloated with his Alpha’s come, wants to be heavy with their pup wants—

“ _Oh fuck_ ,” is all Bucky can choke out before he’s shooting off into the sheets in front of him, making Steve work a little harder at keeping his Omega in tight to his own body. Bucky finds his fingers digging into the meaty arm that is wrapped loosely around his neck, presses back into his Alpha’s body frantically, into his cock, wanting more even when he hasn’t even finished coming. Steve groans, gives him what he wants even without the shared words, hikes Bucky’s knee up a little more and doesn’t slow down his teeth-achingly deep pace.

“ _Ohh_ , there ya go, that was beautiful, Omega, so fuckin’ beautiful, ah fuck,” Steve whispers tight in his ear, grip going somehow tighter all over Bucky’s body. Bucky can’t breathe properly without needing to think about it but that’s so hard when he starts to feel a little detached, when all he can think about is how much he wants to be bred, how much he wants to be provided for and fucked and loved and cherished. And not by anyone, only by—

“ _Steve,_ ” he squeals, feels sweat slick on his lower back as the Alpha’s stomach presses into it again and again _and again_ , the skin-on-skin noise lewd and deafening. Steve is letting out grunts that sound punched from his chest every third thrust and they’re so fucking good let out into Bucky’s ear, into the sweet skin of his neck.

“Who am I, baby? Who am I to you?” Bucky goes cross-eyed at the question and the tone of voice and the physical touch, feels his cunt twitch.

“St- _my_ Alpha, you’re my…m-my Alpha.” Steve growls at the words, sucks on the hinge of Bucky’s jaw before moving further south to suck at his gland, and it makes Bucky’s toes curl.

“Yeah, Omega that’s right—m’yours. Nobody else’s. You belong to me and only me, will until the day you die, isn’t that right, Bucky? Huh?”

Bucky feels wetness on his face that could be a number of different liquids at this point and he wonders if he’s crying. He feels the stirring in his core, in his gut, _already,_ and lets out what sounds like a mournful wail at the feeling of an impending orgasm coupled with his Alpha’s words. He feels like he’s being held under water, drowned in the sensation of submission and adoration, can’t do anything but let out noise after noise, wails and sobs and mewls and whines.

When Steve’s teeth dig into the shell of his ear, a snarl of, “ _Isn’t that right?_ ” spit into it, Bucky’s coming apart yet again.

“ _F-fucking hell,_ m’yours, Alpha, m’yours. I’m yours, I’m yours, _I’m yours_ ,” and Bucky can’t stop saying it, can’t stop shouting it into the universe for all to hear, can’t stop saying it as he dirties up their nest once more. His head lolls to one side as he shouts, down into the mattress, legs quaking in his Alpha’s grip before his thigh hits the bed as Steve reaches up to cradle Bucky’s face.

“You’re all mine, Omega, you understand? I’m gonna love you and protect you and give you everything you want, you hear me? I fuckin’ dare anyone else to come between us, I’ll kill ‘em, Buck— _I’ll kill ‘em_.”

It shouldn’t do things to Bucky, shouldn’t make him cry out and shouldn’t make his insides simultaneously squirm and turn to goo, but the thought of Steve killing, let alone fighting someone, for Bucky makes him preen. He hears Steve make a noise, a pleased one with an edge to it, and he continues to cradle the Omega’s head as he rolls them. Bucky’s front is pressed tight into the mattress, his Alpha’s incredibly large form framing his own, hand on his face sliding down to cup the front of his throat, and _it is bliss._ His erection hasn’t flagged yet and it digs into the sheets, the pressure exquisite, but what makes him choke on his scream is the change of angle in Steve’s cock.

The direct pressure and repetitive hit of Steve’s cock onto his sweet spot has Bucky weeping into the sheets, his Alpha’s thrusts still controlled but _so fucking deep_. Bucky finds his eyes rolling back into his head, a movement he is beyond controlling, and there isn’t an ounce of fight left in his system. Steve’s mouth _runs,_ whispers of more promises and filth into the skin of his shoulder, his neck, his ear, his cheek. Bucky can barely understand what Steve is saying, only picking up on specific words:

_Protect. Love. Fight. Beautiful. Omega, Mine. Yours. Love. Sweet. Baby. Love._

Bucky is openly sobbing, drooling open-mouthed into the mattress, body bouncing in the jarring movement of his Alpha’s thrusts, Steve’s words blanketing his mind and his body blanketing him physically. Whereas his mind was verging on hyperactive minutes before, it’s blissfully blank, all thoughts narrowed down into one central focus—

_Steve._

“Bite me.”

He hears himself say it and even his own two words have him gasping, have him baring his neck and tilting it to the side on instincts. Steve’s hips falter, almost stutter to a stop flush against the curve of Bucky’s ass. There’s a hand in his hair, a guiding one, tilting his head to the side, thrusts significantly slower now but still so goddamn deep.

“ _Buck?”_ he hears Steve murmur in question in his ear, hand in his hair loving and soothing, and Bucky barely registers what he’s asking for at first, just knows that it’s the right thing to say in this moment, how good it feels to say it out loud. There isn’t even a slim a chance of Bucky being eloquent or explaining his thoughts in-depth; that capability flew out his dick during his second orgasm.

“Steve, _god_ bite me, _please_ please do it, want it, want it so much,” he pleads and there’s no other way to describe the act but _begging,_ sounding hysterical, voice so high and whiny, probably tears in his eyes, rolling down his cheeks. Steve’s responding noise is dark and deep, next few thrusts the first rough ones of the night, and then he’s leaning down, pressing his front against the entire line of Bucky’s backside. An arm comes up under Bucky’s armpit, a hand is back around his neck and his chin, much tighter than before, so much so that it makes him shout out a whimper, but Steve’s voice shuts him up.

“ _Jesus Christ_ , Bucky do you even… _fuck_!”

“ _Alpha,_ please I—”

“ _No,_ don’t _‘Alpha’_ me, goddamnit you know what that does to me, Bucky, _shit_.” Steve continues to fuck Bucky through his words and the Omega has never heard his Alpha sound so gutted, so pained, so feral. Bucky’s eyes roll a little when Steve’s lips come crashing down onto his scent gland, lips eager, tongue rubbing aggressively over it. He gives it one hard suck at then his mouth is at Bucky’s ear again.

“You want me to bite you Omega? Want me to claim you, huh? Let everyone see that you’re mine and no one else’s?” His voice is so low and a little dangerous in his ear, but he has no choice but to lay there and listen, the hand on his jaw pressing his head back into Steve’s own. Bucky can faintly hear the lewd wet noises of Steve fucking into him, his cock like hot steel in his already warm cunt, and he’s almost sure Steve’s torso has to be soaked with his slick by now. His answer is one he doesn’t even need to think about.

“ _Yes!_ God, please please _please_ …” Steve lets out a noise that is somewhere between a growl and a shout and Bucky feels his rim begin to stretch a little more, stretched with every thrust Steve gives him. Teeth tearing into his shoulder bring him back from that foggy edge, sharp and tight and it makes Bucky’s next few breaths turn into shaky gasps. Steve’s never bitten him before. He has nipped and dug his teeth in playfully, but he’s never _bitten_ Bucky and it’s the ultimate tease. The Alpha’s teeth are painful as they move up his shoulder, painful but _so fucking good_ , adds an edge to Bucky’s desires that he hasn’t felt before. Steve is making noises, small grunts and moans, ones that drown out the Omega’s noises, and when Steve reaches his gland, he’s a fool for thinking the Alpha would bite him so easily.

Instead he sucks over it a few times, suction almost painful, and is makes Bucky squeal nonetheless.

“ _God,_ I’ll fuckin’ bite you, sugar you know I will. To be bonded with you would be nothing short of a dream, Buck. Want nothin’ more than to be stuck with your sweet little peaches n’ cream ass for the rest’a time,” and Bucky is giggling, a burst of a sharp noise through all the haze, noise turning into a moan when Steve bites at his jawline through his own chuckle. Steve isn’t holding back, teeth hard as they move up to Bucky’s ear, tongue running along the shell before his lips are at the nape of his neck.

“Gonna mark you up and make you mine,” Steve grunts and Bucky feels his gut curl at his words, that familiar coil, feels his cunt try to stretch and accommodate for his Alpha’s perfect knot with every thrust, _wants it so bad._

“Yes, yes, _yes_ please, Alpha, please, pl—.”

“Not gonna bond with you, Omega, not yet, not yet, sweetness.”

Bucky’s hiccupping before he can hold it back, letting out the most pitiful pup noises he can muster, heart in his throat, genuinely shocked by his immediate reaction, _stunned_. Steve is in his ear cooing at him and hushing him, smattering kisses all along his cheek and his temple, comforting as best he can while still moving, still trying to prepare Bucky’s slick entrance for his knot as best he can.

“Oh, Buck, baby you know I want to, know I love you. Just wanna make sure you’re certain, wanna talk to you when we’re in the right headspace and I’m not only thinkin’ about fuckin’ my knot into this perfect little cunt, baby _god._ ”

Steve’s words barely make sense to Bucky in this mindset he’s in, feels the sting of rejection, is worried he’s going to drop in some sort of way, that he’s going to panic. But his Alpha is perfect, knows his Omega, knows what he needs, and Steve is there still purring into his ear all sorts of praise, holding Bucky close.

“Bucky, you know you’re the only one for me, doll. You know you were made for me, that you’ve been waitin’ your whole life for me, know that I don’t want anything more than to bond with you,” and _oh_ something as simple as that, gentle and direct reassurance, does wonders for him, makes his face break out into that small grin again, makes his eyelids droop a little. Bucky almost wonders if Steve used his Alpha voice on him.

“ _Yeah,_ there he is, there’s my boy. You’re gonna take my knot so well, aren’t you, Buck? Yeah? Y’so tight for your Alpha, so wet and ready, _so hungry._ You gonna take it? Tell me, honey, _tell me._ ” Bucky whines.

“Mm…m’gonna take it.”

“Gonna take what, baby? Be specific.” Steve’s next few thrusts are more forceful, his hips rolling and pressing in tighter and longer, and it makes Bucky want to weep it feels so good. Too bad he’s already sobbing.

“Gonna take your knot, gonna take it, Alpha.”

“ _Ohhh,_ baby yeah y’are, _yeah._ Gonna take it why? Huh? Why you gonna take my knot, Omega?” The coil in his gut has built up, sends tingles throughout his limbs, the base of his neck where Steve’s teeth dig in a little.

“Gonna take that knot ‘cause you’re my Alpha,” he cries and Steve latches onto his nape over the next few frantic thrusts, growling into Bucky’s skin, pulls back just enough to say, “That’s right, Bucky—I’m your fuckin’ Alpha and you’re my sweet Omega.”

It’s the simplest thought that Bucky’s ever had while coming, that has ever pushed him over the edge.

This is his Alpha.

He is Steve Roger’s Omega.

The bite Steve gives him on the back of his neck barely resonates, so close to what he wants but in due time. The delicious burn of his Alpha’s knot pressing into his accommodating cunt makes him let out one long breathy whine after the other. Steve is everywhere: he’s blanketing Bucky’s body, he is pressed _inside_ of Bucky, he is kissing messily at Bucky’s cheek, his words are inside of Bucky’s head, swimming around his brain. Bucky’s never felt like this before, wonders what it is but falls forward into the feeling as it wraps him up and whisks him away.

Wherever he goes, it’s good to Bucky. There are no worries in his brain, not very many thoughts in his mind. He can feel and hear his Alpha, feel them move and roll, hear his sighs and groans of pleasure as more praise echoes through this fog. He is _beautifully_ full and equally cradled in this warmth, both mentally and physically, never wants to leave this place.

Steve’s telling him he doesn’t have to come back yet—

_“You stay there as long as you like, sugar. I gotchu, I’ll be here when you come back to me.”_

Bucky thinks he makes a noise in response, hopes he does, but he isn’t sure. Steve tells him he loves him, over and over again, and this time it feels different. This time there is a promise and a heaviness to those three words, one that Bucky carries close to his chest. He feels a soft smile take over his entire form, can feel it in his toes, hopes it’s reflected on his face so his Alpha knows how happy he has made Bucky.

Bucky loves his Alpha.

***

Bucky hates the end of his ruts. He’s moody and always wants to fight everything and is coming to terms with going back to his daily life but he would rather fling himself into the sun than experience another week of his heat.

But he doesn’t feel that way this time around.

This time around he feels the most sated and relaxed that he has arguably ever felt in his entire life, heat set aside. He would even go as far as to say he wouldn’t mind if his heat continued on as long as he has Steve by his side. Steve is the one factor that was different for this heat and he made a world of difference even as the single change. Bucky thinks he might make himself sick if he thinks about how much he loves Steve any more or if he says it out loud. Bucky says it again anyway.

“I love you…”

Whether or not Steve realizes that he grips Bucky a little tighter at the Omega’s words is beyond the both of them, but he pulls Bucky back into his chest more, water sloshing around them and threatening to spill over the lip of the tub, kisses the hinge of his jaw, his cheek, and responds in kind.

“I love you too, Buck.”

He feels like he’s been saying it ever since he laid eyes on Steve in that hallway, the fact that he only just said it a week ago a fleeting thought. Hearing Steve say he loves him makes his toes want to curl, makes butterflies flutter around in his stomach, threatening to spill out of his mouth in a giggle. He isn’t sure if he’ll ever get used to it. He hopes he doesn’t.

This has been a quiet morning, one that feels dramatically different than the past week’s mornings. Waking up was slow like syrup and easy, very little words exchanged, looks and touches instead. Bucky thinks he could get easily accustomed to waking up to thick arms, deep ocean eyes, and forehead kisses.

It’s as if the two of them have been afraid to speak, afraid to break the spell and the fog they’ve been under but that is leaving them as each hour goes by. It is different but it is the same. Steve still carries him to the kitchen for breakfast, still feeds him almost every bite, still kisses him on the cheek before putting their plates in the dishwasher.

His Alpha still carries him back to the bedroom, lays him out in their nest, watches Bucky’s face as he slides inside of him once more. He still holds Bucky impossibly close as he fucks into him, hand on the back of his sore and sensitive neck, other hand cupping his ass, his hip. He still manages to walk that balance of fucking Bucky brutally but also loving on him and treating him like a treasure at the same time. He still laps at and kisses Bucky’s swollen gland, still guides the Omega to orgasm with his words, still sounds stunned and gutted when he himself reaches his own orgasm inside of Bucky. 

They’ve spent the morning tiptoeing around the obvious, the _what now_ , the realization and thoughts of going back to the real world and their lives. They’re avoiding it and it’s obvious to the two of them but neither of them want to breach this bubble they are in so they continue to have a quiet morning, even as Steve sits in the bath he has drawn and grabs for Bucky.

“I think you need a lesson on your bubble bath to water ratio, Alpha.” Bucky can’t stop calling Steve _Alpha_ and he’s only just now realizes he’s done it almost all day. Steve hasn’t mentioned it and Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if he never does, content with the term coming from Bucky and Bucky only. Steve hums noncommittedly, runs his nose along the side of Bucky’s face, kisses at his neck, his sore shoulder.

“ _Mmm_ , with practice comes perfection, honey,” is all he says in response and Bucky actually feels himself blush at the implication that Steve will be running him plenty of baths in the future.

Just like how this week has played out, how he fell asleep last night and woke up this morning, Bucky feels warm and secure, wrapped up in steamy water and meaty arms. He feels safe and secure and loved and he doesn’t know why he is hesitant to breach the topic, the metaphorical elephant in the room. Just like every other step in their relationship, Bucky is overthinking and bringing himself anxieties that could easily be eased by just talking and acting on his thoughts. He knows all of this, is aware of his self-sabotage, but that doesn’t make it any easier for him to open his mouth and speak.

“ _Buck_ , baby what’re you thinkin’ about?” Steve asks in a hushed tone, his lips running gracefully and soothingly across his scent gland, and Bucky finds himself tilting his head back into the physical reassurance. He lets out a shaky sigh, grabs for Steve’s hand and brings it up to his lips, kisses it.

“I…I get sad sometimes, anxious. S-some days I wake up and I…I feel very numb and I don’t want to do much or I don’t care. I won’t want to talk much and I need to get out of bed or it gets worse.” Steve’s lips purse at his temple and the arm around Bucky’s waist tightens but he doesn’t speak.

“Umm, when I get frustrated I…I can’t drop things sometimes and I want to fight. I tend to be emotional at times,” and then Bucky feels it all flow out, feels the need to keep talking and not stop, “I am messy and I let dishes pile up. I need time to write out my thoughts before going into a conversation or an argument. I’m late to almost everything. I spend way too much time on my hair and—”

“Bucky.”

“And…and I can go days without leaving the apartment and—”

“ _Baby_ , hush.”

Bucky swallows down a whine, feeling simultaneously better but much worse, realizes his heart is racing a little at outwardly telling someone all of his flaws. One kiss over his gland has him closing his eyes, has him attempting to even out his breathing.

“I sometimes wake up at night screaming, in a sweat,” Steve starts, tone still hushed but somehow echoing around the bathroom walls, “I can get very short when working on a piece of art and I too have days where I don’t want to talk or interact with others. I can push myself too hard in working out, in my art, and I can push others in my life as well. I get in fights from time to time and sometimes I can be overwhelmingly protective.”

Bucky knows that he should give himself time to think on the things Steve is sharing with him, take them into consideration, but there is no time for consideration when all he begins to think about is how he can help the Alpha, how he can support him through those times. He pictures himself holding Steve, running his hands through his hair and cooing in his ear when he wakes up screaming. He pictures himself wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck and gently taking his pencil away from him, dragging him away from his art for a break. He imagines himself offering to workout with Steve, knowing it would slow him down, never wanting to leave the Omega behind.

He imagines how well they will fit into each other’s lives, how they can be there to support the other during their time together, accepting their flaws with open arms. Steve verbalizes what Bucky is thinking.

“Buck, I can’t promise to clear your anxiety away or that I won’t be upset if we’re late to engagements or that I will understand why you take so long fussing over your appearance. But I can promise you that I will be there to support you in any way that I can. I’ll bring you food and hold you in silence and proudly show up late with you by my side and tell you your hair looks gorgeous.”

Bucky feels his eyes well up, his throat constrict, and he almost wants to cry some more over the fact that he feels himself _crying again._ Steve’s lips are on his gland as he speaks his next words.

“I promise to love you and to commit to you and to bond with you, Bucky Barnes. If you’ll have me. I-I just wanted to be sure that you were sure before we just acted on our impulses.” Bucky gives a little watery smile.

“No you…you made the right choice. I’m glad you did that,” he reassures Steve, turns in his thick arms a little frantically, bubbles getting caught in Steve’s beard as the water sloshes some more. He smiles when he sees those ocean eyes again, grabs for Steve’s face with both hands, can’t help but lean forward to kiss those lips.

“I want you to be my Alpha, Steve Rogers. W-will you be my Alpha?”

Bucky wants to remember the look Steve gives him forever, wants to frame it and tuck it away in his heart for the rest of time. Bucky can’t tell if it’s his own watery eyes or the bathwater or if Steve’s eyes are actually filling with tears but the Alpha is chuckling, is letting out the giggle that Bucky has wanted to let out all morning. A giggle full of love. His larger hands come up to cup Bucky’s on his cheeks, is still chuckling when he leans forward to kiss Bucky chastely and repeatedly on the lips.

“A’course I wanna be your Alpha, sugar. _Of course._ ”

“It won’t be easy. I’m stubborn and a brat and—”

“You don’t think I already know that, Omega? Love you nonetheless, if anything love you even more.”

There’s nothing more that Bucky can say that he hasn’t said before at this point. Steve knows Bucky loves him, knows Bucky wants to be his Omega, they both know that they have a future together. It doesn’t make this moment any less special and if their emotions and giggles bubble out and turn their kisses a little more intimate, a little more frantic, so be it. They have nowhere to be, no rush but to maybe clean up the water that has fallen over the sides of the tub with Bucky’s slow bounces and rolls of his hips.

Everything feels right. It may not feel perfect, Steve is right about that, but it will be them and that is what is going to make it perfect.

Bucky loves his Alpha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am surprisingly emotional about ending this fic. I have loved it and hated it but am so proud with how it has turned out. I have never worked so hard on something in my life and I need the most love and reassurance I have ever needed out of a fic. I hope it's everything you wanted it to be.   
> Much love,   
> K

**Author's Note:**

> Aside from my very first story I posted, I am most interested in feedback from this story. My concerns were the accuracy of the A/B/O Universe and my plot. I'm so used to just writing smut, ha. Please let me know what you think in the comments! I'm open to adding things you may want or making it more than 3 chapters! I love love love kindly-worded critiques, requests/commissions, kudos, and love!! <3 <3 <3


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